Human Trafficking
by Sovoyita
Summary: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn’t bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.
1. Chapter 1

**Human Trafficking: **Trafficking in persons is modern-day slavery, involving victims who are forced, defrauded or coerced into labor or sexual exploitation. Annually, about 600,000 to 800,000 people -- mostly women and children -- are trafficked across national borders which does not count millions trafficked within their own countries.

**Summary: **Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 1: NO LUCK**

**BPOV**

Luck has never been on my side. You'd think that after 21 years, maybe the Fates would have some sort of pity over me and maybe even grant me the faintest hint of luck as to counteract the bad luck I have. Ironically, there had been no such luck. So when I stumbled into the street one morning after having tripped over Old Lady MacAfee's cat on my way down from my apartment, I didn't think much of it. I tripped on that cat enough to know that it would never learn its lesson and I shouldn't bother it lest I wanted to be scolded by an elderly woman with a large, hand-carved cane.

I had just recovered from my trip down the stairs and over the large ginger cat and was on my way out to grab a coffee on 7th Avenue on my way to work. The normal walk there didn't seem as tedious as it had two years ago when I had first moved in to my humble abode. The small, red bricked apartment building stood out from the others. It was a red dot in a sea of silver and black, but I liked its homey feel and the way the warmth of the red just seemed to expel some sort of neutrality into this overly diverse city. It was my own personal Switzerland in the middle of a war zone.

New York was large city; that much was obvious. But the fact that I had been able to find a job here at such a young age with little experience had me jumping for joy, ready to do anything it took to get the job as editor for Edge Studio. The job was something nobody would have assumed I would take, but I was good at it and it kept bread on the table. Voice recordings, audio books, voice-overs, the studio had it all. I was able to do my work efficiently in their studios, trying my best to handle the pompous vocalists who believed that they truly were spectacular just because they did a radio commercial on toothpaste. But I loved it. Personally, if I had had a choice, I would have gone into editing for a publishing company, but for now, this would do.

My career choice was completely coincidental. I had misunderstood the newspaper ad when I read it. It had said that they needed an editor and I immediately signed on for the job only to find that they weren't looking for me, rather that they were looking for someone who had a knack for using technology to manipulate voices and sounds. I just happened to be able to do that.

Having been born into a lower-middle class family meant living frugally. It also meant that I was introduced to part time jobs at an early age. Many odd jobs meant that I had experience in several things. After working in a teen music joint that had a DJ who just happened to be my best friend, Jacob Black, I learned quite a bit. So when they asked if I had experience, I could honestly say yes.

It had taken me about a week to memorize exactly ever single button, lever and switch on the recording panel, but once I did, they wouldn't dare fire me. I worked fast and kept things neat, as well as keeping clients perfectly at ease. I didn't argue with them or try to be their friends. My place was behind the acoustic room, looking at the panel, and theirs was by the mike, doing their lines as best they could. The perfect balance.

After grabbing a plain black coffee from the corner coffee shop, I made my way into the studio, nodding occasionally to people who passed by and nodded their hellos. Common decency was the only thing that kept me doing this. I wasn't surprised that most ignored my presence. I was a naturally boring and quiet person. My life was lived secluded from most modern luxuries because I found them unnecessary while others found it weird that I didn't have them. I didn't speak to the others and I kept to myself so I was often left wondering what other cats I had ran over on my way to work. The day didn't last long. There wasn't much to be done; just two clients doing vocals for a few commercials. After editing the clips and having them sent off to be checked over, I left.

The weather was cooler and darker than I had thought it would be. There was a startling chill in the air and the wind howled around me as a whirlwind of oak leaves swirled around me, getting caught in my hair. I did my best to ignore the feeling of unease that was blanketing me and just kept walking as fast as I could. The skittish feeling wouldn't leave, like that sense of adrenaline that starts pumping when you feel someone sneaking up behind you. It just wouldn't go away.

A scream resonated through the air, slicing through my nerves. I stiffened and my head jerked in the direction of the sound. It was a high pitched shriek, that of a woman. Immediately, I was frightened, but I couldn't bring myself to try and run. I needed to find that person, to help her.

My legs pumped as I run clumsily toward the noise, determined to help in any way I could. I'd been through self defense classes with Renee, my scatterbrained mother, before and knew enough to protect me. Perhaps I could help this person. Tripping a few times, I made it to an alleyway. From what I could see, there was no one hiding in the shadows but it was quiet…much too quiet. And then something appeared through my peripheral vision. A dark blue van with a logo that said "Mario's Painting Services" sat on the corner of the street and there was a man, dragging a young woman into the car as she struggled to escape, her mouth covered by his large hand, her eyes bulging open in fear. For some reason, this didn't scare me as it should have. Instead, I ran towards them, needing desperately to help this girl.

The man didn't turn towards me as I ran and prepared myself to attack. He must have been too distracted by the struggling girl in his arms. She was fighting, hard, but this man had the upper hand. He was at least a foot taller than her and he must have outweighed her by fifty or so pounds. He looked muscular, strong enough to handle anything that came at him; but hopefully, luck would for once be on my side.

He was too slow when he turned towards the sound of my footfalls hitting the concrete sidewalk, too slow to stop my shoulder from hitting him square in the side and knocking him off his feet. My shoulder ached but I wasn't going to stop. I gave him a good kick in the side before grabbing the girl who had landed on the floor two feet away from the man. She limped when she stood, but didn't waste time in trying to escape. She ran as best she could with her bum leg, screaming at the top of her lungs for help that wouldn't come. This street wasn't safe, that much I could tell from its gloomy appearance.

I too began to run, but didn't get far when I was tackled to the ground. The wind blew right out of me and I was gasping for breathe as one hundred eighty pounds landed on me. My head had hit the cement and black dots appeared before my vision, making me dizzy. The dull pounding from the blunt force echoed painfully in my head.

"Gotcha, you stupid bitch…" I tried to understand what was going on, but everything began to blur.

**A/N:** I wanted this story to portray a message. Human trafficking is disgusting, a vile method of slavery that never should occur…but it does. And guess what. It occurs mainly with women and children. Sickening. But this world isn't only made of butterflies and rainbows. There are also the dark things that shadow this world and the good. We cannot forget that.

I hope you all are (maybe…somewhat) moved by this story. It may not seem important to some people, but it's important to me. Thanks for reading. Please Review!

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 2: REALIZATION (part 1)**

**BPOV**

Consciousness didn't come to me until long after I had actually opened my eyes. I could see, but nothing seemed real, like I was in a dream. The walls were stone gray and seemed to expand before collapsing back in on me. My body didn't seem to be under the control of my mind. Instead, I felt nothing. Nothing made sense.

After awhile, feeling in my limbs began to come back, the feel of needles fresh inside my skin. At first, I laid limply wherever I was. But as time grew on, I began to wiggle around, trying to maybe get a grasp of my surroundings or perhaps even whether or not I was alive or dead. But soon, I began to realize that maybe being alive wasn't what I wanted. I could hear the clanks of chains, the sound of someone crying and moaning in pain, and the scent fear, sweat, and tears was practically wafting through the cold air. When I finally started seeing everything, my fears grew. The clanking didn't come from imaginary chains. The tears didn't come from imaginary girls. The sweat and tears and fear were all too real, and they were taking over me as well. Because all the sounds and cries and pain, it was all coming from me.

"You're finally awake." The voice was familiar, but I couldn't tell from where. My head turned to the sound and my body froze in awareness. It was the man from the alley, standing over me with a strangely _too_ innocent smile on his face. To say he wasn't handsome would be an understatement. He had blonde hair that was tied messily at the nape of his neck and arctic blue eyes that pierced through me in the worst way. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans that were tattered along the hip and knees. His look intimidated me and I pulled as far away as I could. I hadn't realized that I was being held down until I attempted to move my wrists. Both were handcuffed tightly to the bed frame of a bed I didn't know I was laying on. I felt like I was being invaded, trapped at his mercy. He continued to smile at me and I began to shudder.

I stuttered, "W-who are you?" His smile widened and he lowered down to my level. His hand reached for me but I shrunk away. His eyes narrowed and his hand went to my neck, holding it, but not choking me. They were large and hot, too hot. He leaned closer to me and caressed my face with his free hand. My eyes were wide when I stared at him. What was he doing?!

"James," he whispered in my ear. Before he pulled away, his nose grazed my hairline and jaw, breathing deeply, leaving goosebumps in his trail. "Mmmm…flowers." I gasped and tried to pull away from him, but his hand stayed at my throat, never leaving my skin.

"James!" He sighed angrily and swiftly turned around before growling out, "What?" He was glaring at a man with shoulder length black hair and another man with shoulder length, pure as snow, white hair. The black haired man shook his head and looked at me momentarily before looking back at James.

"You shouldn't taunt the girl. She doesn't owe us anything." He spoke with a thick Italian accent and acted as if I wasn't even there, ignoring the fact that I was practically being molested by a strange man. But that was beside the point. What did he mean by that?

"But she saw us, Aro! We can't let her go anyway. We might as well get the most out of it." He caressed my cheek again and I jerked my head away. The white haired man nodded and spoke. "It's true, Aro. Let James have his fun. Besides, she will need to be prepared for it anyway. She's still young. She's a perfect candidate for fitting in with the others." He stared at me in disgust for a moment before turning away and leaving. The man called Aro sighed and turned to me.

"You are Isabella Swan." It wasn't a question. I didn't reply in any way and ignored him. "I apologize for Caius. He doesn't know how to act in the presence of a beautiful, young lady." I wanted to scoff but I refrained. Was chaining a girl to a bed against her will any better than acting as if I was worthless?

Aro turned away and left me alone with James whom was staring at me intently. Embarrassed, I did my best to will my cheeks not to blush. My wishes were futile. A bright red blush appeared on my face and down my neck, the heat annoying. A smile spread over James face and he leaned in close. His eyes closed and he smelled me again. The blush wouldn't leave and I internally cursed my body for betraying me when I faced this embarrassment. He sighed again. A sigh of contentment. "What perfume are you wearing?" The question threw me off guard but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't remember putting on perfume this morning. In fact, I only owned one bottle of perfume and I hadn't even opened it yet. Renee had bought it for me but I had always wondered what "Seduction Unleashed" could possibly smell like. But the thought of my mother brought a lump to my throat. Would I ever see her again?

He paid no mind to my lack of response and instead gathered a bundle of items from the floor. I recognized them immediately: my wallet and my apartment keys. He took the wallet and opened it with careful hands. Inside were a picture of Renee and Charlie, my father, standing next to me after my graduation. I blinked the tears that had begun forming in my eyes. I probably would never see Renee and Charlie again. James lifted the wallet to his nose and breathed in. His eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned, "It even smells like you."

The click of heels interrupted James but he didn't move away from me. An accented woman's voice penetrated the silence. "James, Caius wants you to bring the new girl to the barracks. She needs to be introduced to the others." He sighed angrily and stood up, dropping the wallet and grabbing the chains that held me to the bed and unlocking them. As soon as I could, I rubbed my wrists that ached from being pulled too hard. The woman had fiery red hair that was curled and wild looking. She stared longingly at James before glaring at me. My body tensed again. Her eyes were a hard mint green color. There was nothing to them but anger and hate.

"Very well then, Victoria. I'll take her." The woman huffed and strutted out of the room. James pulled me to my feet and turned me to face him. He stared into my eyes and let his hand rest on my cheek. His breath was in my face, minty but too warm. Adrenaline rushed through me as fear set in , but I couldn't move. It was awkward and uncomfortable for me, but my body was frozen with fear.

"Isabella," he murmured quietly. His face inclined down to me and he leaned forward, his eyes closing and his lips open. I tried to pull away but his arms were now wrapped around my waist, pulling me even closer. Just a couple centimeters closer and his lips would be on mine. My first kiss now that I thought about it and it would be with a total stranger.

"James!" He opened his eyes with a bit of anger flashing through the ice before guiding me to the door of the room. _Saved by the jealous, angry foreign _woman, I thought humorlessly. Just as I was walking through the door, I saw that James had gone back to the bed and pocketed my wallet, but not before taking a long whiff of it.

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 3: REALIZATION (part 2)**

**BPOV**

As soon as I entered the next room, my stomach flipped uncomfortably. The room would have looked like boot camp barracks except for the racks of clothing lined up neatly against the wall. Each held colorful fabrics with sparkles and shimmers radiating from them. Victoria stood in front of the room, looking down at the barracks. At that's when I realized _who _she was looking at.

Down on the floor and on the beds lay about twenty girls, all looking startled at the new arrival. Most of them looked up at me and stared while a couple of the other girls openly glared or shared looks of pity. I stepped back only to fall back into James. He smiled before lightly pushing me forward. I walked toward Victoria, unsure and nervous. She didn't even say anything. She just pointed out a bed with her perfectly manicured, red nails. I silently made my way there only to trip over the air.

"Ostoba lány," Victoria muttered irritably. I quickly pulled myself up to see James standing nearby, looking as if he wanted to come and assist me. From the glare he was getting from Victoria, I could only assume he didn't want to risk it. I got to my bed and sat on its hard surface like the other girls. Victoria nodded curtly. And then the sound of quiet footfalls hitting the floor sounded through the room, Victoria called out, "Feltámad. Aro jön." I didn't understand what she was saying, but all the girls stood, so I followed their lead. They all gathered in front of their beds, standing at attention. Only then did I see what they were wearing.

The scantily clothed women were wearing lingerie that all seemed to be fit for accentuating their figures. All of them were beautiful and young, my age or younger. I didn't quite understand at first, but then I saw them.

Thick bruises covered a few of the girls' wrists and ankles, as well as a few welts on their backs and torso. One girl had a large bruise over her left cheek and her eye barely opened. Another had dark handprints covering her legs, but they were centered in on her inner thighs. I blushed and looked away. These girls were like me (other than the fact that they, by far, surpassed me in the beauty department). They were here against their will. Everything became clear.

They were slaves. Battered like animals being tamed by a cruel master, they were only trying to protect themselves from the slaps of the hands of their handlers. But as a result for their refusals, they were marked, branded by fists and kicks. They looked as if their spirits had been broken down to nothing, leaving them as nearly empty shells with no signs of hope left.

The thought made me want to cry, scream, and thrash around. Because in the end, I would end up just like them, bruised and used and sold. My mind instantly tried to come up with ideas. I thought of the possible ways to escape, but there was no exit besides the one that James was guarding. I was stuck and there was nothing I could do about it.

The door opened behind James and in walked Aro and Caius, both sporting blank expressions. When Aro saw me, he smiled and stood next to Victoria.

"Good morning, ladies." Victoria was translating in a foreign language behind him. "You have a new sister today. This is Isabella." He pointed me out and the other girls looked towards me. The blasted blush came back again and I grimaced. His grin widened and he proceeded. "Now, we'll be doing business in Chicago. Tonight you will load the vans and remain quiet and well-behaved. I do _not _want a repeat of what happened last night." He looked at one of the girls in the line and then turned away. "Isabella, James will assist you with preparing for Chicago." With that, he left with Caius following behind, his nose high in the air.

The girls relaxed and went back to sitting on the beds, some curling up on the floor. I too sat on the floor, just thinking about what was happening. The situation seemed pretty straight forward. Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to show weakness, to show these girls that I was helpless. None of them were crying for everyone to hear. No, they were all silent, talking amongst themselves or sleeping. I jumped when I felt a small tap on my shoulder.

A beautiful woman stood in front of me, her long black waves settling around her face, her hazel eyes showing curiosity.

"Nem beszélsz Magyar?" I sat there, confused and unable to communicate with her. She shook her head and gestured with her hands, trying to come up with the words. "Uh, th-thank y-ou?" My head turned to the side and I looked at her. I shook my head and tried to think of something to say. There were no classes for learning Hungarian in high school and from what I could tell from the little bit I had learned from reading the Harry Potter series, that's what she was speaking. I had only met the minimum requirement for learning Spanish as well.

"She's trying to say "thank you". She thinks you saved her earlier when in reality, you just made everything hell for her." I turned to see another even more beautiful woman with long blonde hair standing at the foot of the bed. She and the other girl were dressed alike; both in robes that were wrapped around them loosely and in black lingerie that made their skin look beautiful though they both had bruises along their torsos. But the black haired girl had a long cut doing down her face and several large bruises along her arms.

The blonde glared at me with hard ocean blue eyes and continued. "If you hadn't tried to "save" her," she made quotations with her fingers, "she wouldn't have been beaten by Caius. Because of you, they will now be guarding us twice as much and that means they'll be irritable. Idiotic girl." Her heavy accent showed her anger. I shrunk away as she took a step forward, but the raven haired girl put her hand in front of her.

"Állítsuk le a Rosalie." The blonde named Rosalie huffed but walked away. The raven haired girl sighed before kneeling down beside me and putting her hand on her chest. "Katea."

* * *

_Ostoba lány_ means "stupid girl"

_Feltámad. Aro jön_ means "Get up. Aro is coming."

_Nem beszélsz Magyar?_ means "Do you speak Hungarian?"

"Állítsuk le a Rosalie" means "Stop it Rosalie."

* * *

"Katea," I said to show that I understood her. She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. "Isabella," she assured, looking at me for reassurance. I shook my head and put my hand over my heart. "Bella." She repeated my name as if she was taking in the information and testing it out before nodding and smiling. She pulled me up from my place on the floor and dragged me to a bed on the other side of the room. There, several other girls all watched me conspicuously, clearly not caring if they were caught. Some smiled when they saw how Katea was pulling me along with her while others just watched curiously.

Katea climbed up to her top bunk and gestured for me to follow. Careful so as to not trip over my own foot on the way up, I followed her up the wooden ladder. When I sat atop the bed next to Katea, our feet hanging over the edge, I saw what she had done to her bunk. Displayed next to her pillow were several pictures, some old looking, some new. I leaned forward to take a look and saw a little girl that looked like very similar to her standing alongside a woman and man, all smiling happily at the camera. Katea laughed lightly and I jumped, surprised at how close her voice was.

She took the photo from the bed and pointed at the people. She pointed at the older man and said, "Papa." Pointing to the woman, she said, "Mama." And then pointing to the little girl, she whispered, "Si-sis-ter, Rachelle." Tears leaked from her eyes and she rested her head on my shoulder, sobs racking her chest. Unable to control my own lump of emotions from choking me, I allowed the dam to open, releasing all my sadness and self anger through tears. I held her in a hug as we both futilely attempted to stop crying over the hopelessness of our situation.

It _was_ futile really. Crying would get us nowhere, especially now that I understood the situation. Seeing these girls, all looking so broken and battered on the floor, I realized that _we_ were nothing but things to sell. Drugs in the game of dealer and junkee. Vulnerable, scared, helpless women in the business of human trafficking.

**A/N: **The translations above are in Hungarian.

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary**:Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 4: NOT YET**

Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. And this condemning left me wondering what I had done that had led me to this fate. And so many things came to mind.

I had separated myself from my family three years ago, just living and working by myself. It allowed me to focus solely on school and then work when it came along at the studio. The few times that I had actually called Renee or Charlie, I was just giving them a vague update on my life. When I thought back to the days where my mother was my best friend and my aloof father would spend awkward holidays with me in California, the memories never really brought on the waterworks. Of course, having grown up so quickly, metaphorically of course, with a scatter-brained mother who was more child-like than motherly and a father who couldn't cook to save his Chief's badge, I never truly relied on them for support or approval.

Had abandoning my family and the morals that were braided into family relationships been the cause of my punishment or had there been a more troubling sin that I had committed? But the more I continued to think about it, I realized how truly selfish I was being. Obviously, all these girls couldn't have done something so bad that some higher power was choosing to punish them like _this_. And so my mind was set when James finally called me down from my little safe haven on Katea's bed where I was sobering up from my tear fest. I wouldn't show any sort of emotion to him, he who was just going to sell me out to the first man with a high bid. His strange, almost _clingy _behavior had already set me on edge, but now, I would be overly cautious. Rather safe than sorry.

From what I had learned in the hour that I was allowed to spend with the other girls, only few knew English. Unfortunately, Rosalie was one of the few and I was too embarrassed to actually go and ask them for help translating what Katea was saying. So when I was held tightly by Katea when James called for me and she whispered words too quickly for me to even hope to understand, I could only guess that there was something important that I was supposed to know. But I had to follow James wherever he wanted me to go, and so I did.

As if ushering a small child, he gently led me back to the room where I had woken with his hand against my lower back. His too warm hand sent shivers up my spine and I tried to walk faster so I would maybe avoid a more pressed touch. James didn't even notice; he continued with his gentle, adoring smile as he continued to lead me away to the room. The last I heard of the barracks were the hushed silence that seemed to spread as soon as I was seen walking away.

_The silence always takes place __**before **__the storm._

When the door clicked shut behind us, James locked it securely. He watched me cautiously as he moved towards a chair in the corner of the room and left me standing right in front of the door. When he sat, his eyes still on me, he beckoned me forward with a bent finger and I, too worried and scared of what would occur next, did as I was silently asked. I only walked until I reached the center of the room and James didn't object. Instead, he watched me closely with scrutinizing eyes that held me where I was. I felt like the mouse to his cobra and at that moment, the snake was about to catch its prey.

"Remove your clothes, _Bella_," he ordered suddenly, emphasizing his newfound knowledge of my nickname. There was a hint of eagerness in his voice that peaked through his aggressive, dominating façade. But I couldn't focus on that. Instead, I found myself shrinking away from him, unconsciously wrapping my arms around my torso so as to keep my shirt from mysteriously vanishing from my body. It seemed that as soon as James saw this, a tenderness entered his tone and his eyes softened from their more aggressive feel. He sat up in his seat until his back was perfectly straight against the chair and spoke again, this time seemingly more cautious.

"Bella, remove your clothes right now. I'm afraid that if I invite Victoria in to assist you, she will not find it a pleasant task." I shook my head, unable to stop from shrinking even further into the corner of the room. James growled deeply and stood suddenly, a movement that startled me. "Isabella, you _will _remove your clothing now or I _will _go and remove them _for _you. Now, _strip_."

My frozen blood thawed enough that my mind reasoned that it would be best to remove the clothing myself rather than have James too close. And so my hands moved on their own accord, my mind being ruled by this new fear of what an angry James would do if I disobeyed him. As soon as my fingers touched the hem of my simple gray shirt, I realized how much they were shaking. Unsure of what to do, I looked at James, the only person I could turn to in this moment. It felt so wrong, looking at my captor for help, but in truth, I had no choice. What was I to do in this situation but hope that he would let me stop? To tell me that this was all some horrible joke played on me by an old high school friend?

But the joke was on me. James nodded for me to continue and I followed the order blindly. Tears escaped my eyes as I hastily pulled the shirt over my head, my hands instantly going to my pants. Somewhere in my mind, the idea that the sooner I finished ridding myself of my clothes, the sooner I could be done with it, took over. So when I pushed my jeans down my legs and stumbled out of them clumsily, a sigh of relief came out of my mouth before I could even think about it. That is, until I looked back up at James.

His eyes weren't on my face. Rather, they were raking over my body like an unwanted parasite searching for a place to start sucking the life out of their host. I felt completely naked, though I still wore my underwear and bra. His mouth was open slightly and his eyes traveled slightly over my more private features before returning up to my face again. It scared me, seeing his light blue eyes darken visibly with a one-sided attraction and lust clouding his sight. "Remove the rest of your clothing, Bella." That's when my sobs were clearly audible.

The situation had been held at bay in my mind for awhile. But now, it was coming out, full blown and in color. And when my fingers unlatched the bra clasps from behind, they shook in recognition of what was to come. My bra fell from my shoulders, falling into my puddle of clothing too quickly for my liking. And so my last obstacle was left, the one thing that was left covering me. My mind almost refused to recognize the feeling of cotton gliding down my thighs and gathering around my feet, leaving me to try and cover myself as best I could with my arms, the cold air raising goosebumps on my skin.

A deep breath was taken from the man sitting on the seat as he stood slowly, eyes remaining solely on my own. James walked up to me, his arms extended to me. I backed away only to trip over my clothing before righting myself and pushing myself back again. He frowned and walked up to me, cornering me against a wall. My arms were pushed away from my body and down to my sides, leaving me completely bare for James to see. And that's when all hell broke loose on my emotions. Never before had I been revealed to a man. Love and lust were in the same boat for me and I was stuck on my belief of not having sex unless it was with someone I loved. And yet here I was, naked before a man I had barely met half an hour ago. This couldn't be happening! I was supposed to have had ended up like Old Lady MacAfee; seventy-eight years old with a fat ginger cat and nothing else to do except bother "younglings" in my apartment building.

His eyes seemed to show recognition for my emotions (well, the scared and worried emotions) but he continued running his hands up and down my arms, caressing me in a way that was much too intimate, too personal to stand.

"Please," I whimpered. Begging was something I would never have done, but now, the pride that I held so close to me meant nothing now, not when this was happening. "Please, just do-don't do this. I can-can't…" My sobs rang through the room and I slid down to the floor, clutching my legs to my chest. I felt so weak, so small. I was so used to being able to control my life, and now, I couldn't even leave. Now, I was under the control of strangers who planned on selling me out for sex, but first, they were going to take away the thing I hadn't even realized I held dear: my virtue.

James leaned down to me and cupped my cheek with his large hand. "Don't worry, Isabella. I'll make it good for you." His voice sounded so caring, so gentle, that I almost believed him. But no, this wasn't what I wanted. Fear and anger and shock still froze my blood, showing me that this was all wrong, that this wasn't how things were supposed to be. That this wasn't even close. I shook my head violently, but that didn't stop his mouth from descending on my own, stealing away my first kiss, a kiss that I was too scared and sickened and terrified to respond to. How pathetic that I, a twenty one year old woman, hadn't even been kissed before. But now that it was happening, being taken from me at the worst moment in the worst situation, I couldn't help but realize how pathetic my life was.

Years of neglecting myself to take care of a young-at-heart mother, practically losing all connections with my biological father because I didn't like the place he lived, watching my mom live a happy life and getting remarried. Nothing about my life even revolved around me. It was all based on my family. I had never even been on a date before. All these selfish thoughts passed through me without a hint of remorse but I couldn't care about anything else but me. So the only thought that passed through my mind as James pulled away from me and unbuttoned his loosely hanging jeans was…

_Not yet._

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: This chapter was pretty easy to type, but that is only because I changed POVs **(the POV change is pretty obvious. I mean, who else would be doing the deed and describing it in this hallucinatory way?)**. It's easier to write about a hated character being delusional than it is to write about a loved character being in tortured against her will. So when you all read this, don't hate me. Sorry if you all think this chapter is sickening, but I warned you all that this story would include rape and it did. See you at the bottom of the page.

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 5: MINE FOR THE TAKING**

Was I ready to take this girl?

To take her, mark her as my own both physically and mentally? The only answer my mind and heart could come up with was yes, I was ready.

As I unbuckled my jeans, I couldn't help but see the look in her wide brown eyes, the almost hidden wonder in their tone that showed me that she was truly looking forward to what I was about to do._ No, _I thought. _She isn't just looking forward to it, she's anticipating it. Anxiously. _I looked forward to making her my own, to taking her before any other stranger could do so. She'd probably already had intercourse with another man before, but I would make her forget all about that, give such her pleasure that she wouldn't feel so sad about being here, with me. Surely no man could have ever given the pleasure that I was about to give her.

Her naked form still recoiled into the wall, her shyness coming back. But she wasn't blushing now like she had been earlier. This just showed me how much of a seductress she truly was. Shy towards larger company, she was a vixen in the bedroom, probably feisty as well as she had been when she had rammed me out in the alley. Her face had been slightly marred by the skin tearing against the concrete slabs, but otherwise, she was beautiful. The blood that had been slightly smeared across her skin even after I had wiped it down just added the alluring color to her skin that matched her blush.

I didn't particularly feel bad about taking her down when she tried to run. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten the chance to see her beauty, to show her just exactly how much my need to keep her now ruled my thoughts. And I wouldn't fail at my task. She was _mine_ now and mine alone. Other men would take her if they paid for her services, services I was sure she would excel at, but she would only truly want me. That was enough for me to accept orders from Aro and Caius to make her work. She very well couldn't be a supervisor like Victoria. No, she was much too rebellious, too used to having no leash. I would break her like a wild mustang and she would have the bark but no bite.

My pants were unzipped and I quickly kicked off my shoes before allowing the jeans to pool around my feet. Her eyes were wide with an emotion I was familiar with that I could only mark as admiration. I smirked at how the color was slowly coming back to her pale, stoic looking face. She had obviously been trying so hard to keep up the charade that she didn't want me, but it wasn't working now. Soon, I would be able to see the pleasure written clearly all over her face, dominating her body, taking her over and pushing her instincts to the forefront of our passion.

My shirt had somehow removed itself while I focused intently on Bella, pulling her up from the floor and guiding her protesting form to the bed. I supposed it was a futile last attempt to pretend that she didn't want this. We both knew that this was a mutual act that we were about to commit, an act that she wanted even more desperately than I did. So when she continued her struggles even when I laid her down on the bed, I decided it was best to crush her overdriven pride and handcuffed her wrists above her head. The pleasurable torture she would endure would make up for her inability to cooperate with me.

When I was finally able to remove my remaining clothing, she finally saw me. As if they weren't wide enough, her brown eyes seemed to just dilate into black orbs, full of anxiety and more. I could see the lust pouring from her, even though she hid it well. Her pathetic cries of protest were merely a cover for her lust-induced moans and pants. That I would reveal all in due time.

Eagerly, I straddled her waist, allowing her to feel some of my weight on her, to get more comfortable. I was ready for her now, my erection already becoming slightly painful from her arousing moans. But I wanted to get to see the eagerness overtaking her brazen eyes as I prepared her for me. So instead of entering her immediately, I allowed my hands to run down from her neck to her breasts, just barely allowing my thumbs to run over the peaks of her breasts. Her eyes widened in surprise and she tried to pull away. Another futile attempt at playing hard to get. I wouldn't stand for it.

I leaned down and captured her breast in my mouth, taking my time to show her that it was okay to moan for me to continue, to express her pleasure. Her legs, trapped behind me, tried to lift over me to push me back. Maybe next time, when she was more willing to accept this pleasure, I would allow her to dominate me….but chances were slim. I wanted to show her where her place was and that she couldn't change it unless I allowed it. Even then, I would have complete control of the situation.

The strange thing about Bella was that though she protested, she never screamed, never showed me how desperately she was trying to stop my ministrations. Her heavy pride was ruling her, not even allowing her a better chance of maybe getting me to stop. True, I would never stop even if she begged on my mother's grave, but this also meant that it would be harder to break her, to get her to scream my name as I reached my peak within her.

Finally, annoyed that I had yet to hear a sigh of defeat or even an involuntary hip thrust into my already aroused member, I pulled back slightly and watched her eyes. A hint of hope sparked in her eyes as I moved my hips down closer to her thighs. Maybe she was ready for me to take her. I sincerely hoped so.

And with a hard thrust, I unexpectedly entered Bella. My shaft hit something on the way in, a barrier that I wasn't aware would be there. That is, until realization came over me and I realized that she was a virgin…and I was her first. I swelled with pride that I would be her first and only lover. My body shook with anticipation of what was to come, the tightness of her center making it hard to concentrate. When I was finally able to look up at her, the look on her face almost made me forget that I was in her. Her eyes had popped wide open in shock, her mouth open in a silent cry before a clear cry of pain escaped her throat. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and I leaned forward. I was pleased. The pain I caused her, only I would be able to do that. This sort of pain I was happy to cause, happy to participate in. Because in the end, she would never forget it.

With my mouth by her ear, I bit her lobe gently. "You are _mine_, Isabella." And with that, I rocked my hips to push myself even further into her, reveling in her pained expression, knowing it would all be worth it.

Seeing her incapable of stopping me even for a moment, I drove myself in and out of her harder and harder, taking her cries and thrashes as signs that her walls were slowly but surely crumbling around her. I was laying waste to her pride and preparing to show her that this weakness was okay. Watching her eyes close tightly, tearing at the corners as her mouth opened in gasps and cries, I allowed myself to lose even more control. But when I felt myself growing, expanding within her center walls as my member prepared to climax, I realized that she wasn't there yet. For some odd reason, I felt the need to allow her to climax with me, to show her that pleasure could come from this pain. And I already knew that she had loved the pain. But I also wanted her to realize that she was done, that her pride no longer ruled her. That _I _was her new master.

My fingers began working on the apex of legs, pinching roughly, allowing her more pain to come with her pleasure.

"Scream my name, Isabella," I whispered, not wanting to miss anything she would say. Instead, her teary eyes opened and she shook her head, fear of losing control, of losing her walls, took over. I worked her bundle of nerves harder and she cried out. "Scream my name," I demanded. With another jerky shake of her head, I lost a bit of my control and allowed my hand to pull away before slapping her hard against her rear. She screamed unexpectedly, waking something inside me that I could only describe as even more fiery hot arousal. My hand pulled back again on its own accord before slapping again, a resounding smack hitting the air. Another scream entered the room before whimpers took their place.

Leaning forward one more time, I bit her ear harder than before and whispered, "Scream my name."

"James!" she screamed, her head shaking back and forward as defeat washed over her. I smirked down at her as I continued to pound into her, harder and harder, empowered by my win. Moments later, her legs began quaking on the bed, her body shaking as her climax shook her and pulled me along with it. Her body tightened around me and milked me.

After allowing myself to use her body to milk myself of the last of my orgasm, I pulled out of her before collapsing beside her, the chains clinking loudly in the air along with my heavy breathing and her sobbing. Her sobs were a good sign, a sign that the experience had been memorable enough. She would never forget me or how I made her scream like no one else ever had. I hastily unclasped the cuffs around her arms and allowed her to bring them down to the bed so she could turn. As soon as they were released, she attempted to get up, but I pulled her back to me and stole her lips in deep kiss. She didn't even attempt to kiss back, her lips staying completely still against my own. I was disappointed, to say the least. After all my efforts, she was still stubborn. And then I had a revelation.

"We'll have to work on that stubbornness again, won't we Isabella?" Her eyes widened with fear of what was to come, fear of breaking into even more pieces, but I just smirked at her. After all, she was mine for the taking.

**A/N**: This chapter was freaking wrong. Not in the sense that it wasn't what I wanted but in the sense that the things that happened in it were sickening, twisted…horrible. Realize that while I didn't want this to happen, it needed to. You all need to understand the severity of human trafficking and rape is a HUGE part. These women and children, they don't have a choice. They are slaves of the modern world.

So I know I probably disappointed some people with this chapter's contents, but it's all as realistic as it could possibly get. Even the part where Bella reached climax. For some rape victims, they do reach their peak even if they are unwilling participants of the act. Just because they know they don't want to feel any pleasure from a painful experience doesn't mean that your body can't betray you.

Anyway, I can't keep on writing for tonight. I still haven't finished my assignment and it's due tomorrow. I have to finish a research paper by tomorrow morning.

Please **REVIEW! **

**P.S. Do any guys/males/chicos read my story? Let me know. I can hardly ever tell if you don't review and if you do, it's not like you outright say, "Hey, I'm of the male gender!" I'm just curious. **

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Okay, I can accept that most of you are probably really upset about the last chapter…or maybe I'm just trying futilely to convince myself that this story is good enough. I guess I'm just a review hog. I like the reader's approval and when I don't get it in large quantities, I start freaking out. Oops. Anyway, onward with the story! We are back to Bella's POV. Well, for a portion of the chapter. I can't stand another second in _James's _head.

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 6: UNCLEAN**

The water wasn't hot enough. I could see it swirling around me in a pool of pink and I could feel it burning into my skin, cleansing it, but it wasn't enough. The water would never be hot enough. Hot water cleaned better than cold water, everyone knew that.

So why wasn't this water hot enough?

They didn't give me any wire scrubbers or a loofah, but they did give me a washcloth. It wasn't enough to scrub myself clean. I needed something rough to deteriorate the top layer of skin, to make me clean again. It wasn't working.

The soap stung and I knew that the stinging soaps would clean me better than the other, more gentle soaps. So I scrubbed until I was raw and bleeding. And I scrubbed everywhere, everywhere he touched me and slapped me, everywhere he entered me, everywhere he kissed me, everywhere. But his essence, his very presence was etched into my skin, the deeper layers of my skin and refused to wash out. It was like an annoying stain that would never really come out, that would sit there, looking back at you and all you can do is take it. I didn't want to take it.

Somewhere, I knew that I should stop scrubbing unless I wanted to continue bleeding, but I couldn't care. If scrubbing until my skin was gone would make me clean, then so be it. I didn't hear anyone come into the stalls, but when they moved back the curtain, cool air hit me, taking away the heat. _No, I need the heat. _

I couldn't tell who it was. My vision was blurred and I could only see the blur of blonde in front of me and several pairs of eyes. I could only recognize that it was the girls from the other room, but I briefly wondered what were doing here. But I couldn't stop scrubbing for long. The cold air brought in germs and I had to make up for that by scrubbing order. The person bent over and kneeled beside me.

When had I gotten on the floor?

Her voice was soothing and gentler than it had been the last time she had spoken to me. "Bella, you need to get up." I shook my head and kept on scrubbing with the towel. The steam around us was leaving and I had to keep clean. Cleanliness was crucial.

**ROSALIE POV**

The pathetic looking girl on the shower floor was not the one who had attacked James, who had tried to save one of us. The Americans we had before acquainted turned a blind eye towards us and our situation. She had actually run to our rescue, only to be taken in to captivity. That's what angered me, not her. That James had actually caught her, that Katea hadn't gotten away, that no one was saved and everyone was broken.

Her pale skin was red with blood and flush. We needed to get her up before she bled anymore. It wouldn't be taken lightly by Victoria if she wasn't able to work when we reached Chicago.

"Bella, you need to get up." I tried to speak in my softest voice. I remember my first job time. I had been a virgin and unaware and scared. The man wasn't gentle –and from what I could tell, neither was James –and afterwards, I had scrubbed myself raw. Bella was the same, if not worse.

She shook her head stubbornly and continued scrubbing. I pulled the washcloth out of her hand and she stared up at me with wide, glassy eyes.

"The dirt…it's still there. It won-won't come out. It won't come out," she murmured quietly, her hands unconsciously clawing at her skin. As if seeing something unknown to us, she took the rag from my hand and began scrubbing the drain, mumbling, "Too dirty…dirty…need clean….hotter…" I sighed and looked back to the others and motioned them forward. Katea fronted the group, instantly coming to Bella's aid and pulling her hands away from her lacerated arms. She and the others had taken to Bella quickly. To say the least, I was jealous.

When I had arrived, I had acted poorly, making myself out to be better than the others because I had a full education and knew how to speak English. The others disliked me and I was forced into a period of solitude; that is, until my first "job". After that, everyone was more understanding and I was broken. It wasn't hard to trust the other girls, to see them with the same bruises that I had and see that they were living through it.

Katea was hugging Bella, murmuring quietly, "Sajnálom," over and over again, tears coming out of her eyes. I could tell she was surprised that Bella had been taken by James. Occasionally, the men would take us for themselves for an hour or so, but never before had James shown that much interest or done so much harm. Marks all over her arms and legs and thighs, along with a few around her neck, covered her thoroughly. It would be a miracle if the bruises would disappear by the time we got to Chicago.

Speaking quietly so as to not startle Bella (though I didn't believe she could hear us anyway), I turned towards the others. "Mi szükségességét, hogy sikerült neki." The others nodded and ran off, calling out, "Valaki hozzák a kéztörlőkkel és néhány ruhát. Ellenőrizze, hogy ez a tiszta," and "Állítsuk be a krémek." Together, they pulled a limp Bella out of the showers and dragged her to a nearby seat, wrapping her in towels to keep her warm. Her normally pale skin was red and bloody around her legs and elbows. Her eyes were bloodshot and blank, staring at the shower doors. As carefully as we could, we applied the lotions to her skin, careful with the thinned skin and the cuts. The lotions stung, but she didn't even wince. I remember, I had screamed when they had been applied to me. It had burned like salt on an open wound.

Sajnálom. –Sorry

Mi szükségességét, hogy sikerült neki.- We need to get her out.

Valaki hozzák a kéztörlőkkel és néhány ruhát. Ellenőrizze, hogy ez a tiszta. –Someone bring some towels and some clothes. Make sure it's clean.

Állítsuk be a krémek. –Bring the creams.

* * *

No whimpers or tears escaped her eyes the entire time. Even when the soft clicks of Victoria's heels came too close for comfort and the red-haired demon entered the shower room, she didn't move. Victoria looked in and saw what we were doing with a look of pity and disgust on her face. I was tempted to tell her that James would leave her the same way if she continued pining after her, but stopped myself. She wouldn't understand. She was supposed to be with us, but she lucked out. Caius took a liking to her "elegance" and decided she would be perfect for recruiting us. Too bad that as soon as she met James, she was hooked on someone that would never love because they could never love.

We didn't stop applying the creams. Bella's eyes slowly closed and she fell asleep, too tired to continue fighting consciousness. She was too weak to even fight off the nightmares that night. She refused to wake even when we shook her to load the van. Instead we carried her and let her rest. The screams were all we heard.

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD. DON'T FLAME THEM (OR EAT THEM). THAT CHILDREN IS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 7: GREAT….**

"Hell no; I refuse to go to that…_thing's_ house!" The disgust that washed over me was unbearable. Just the thought of that man made me want to pour bleach into my ears in hope that it would fry my brain enough to rid me of my memories of him. But the big curly haired goofball in front of me just pouted childishly.

"But we _need _to go," he stressed anxiously. "It's supposed to be the party of the year! If we don't go, we'll be the laughing stock of the medical world!" I sighed.

"Emmett, it's a small party for a few head doctors from the hospitals in Chicago. And the only reason we're even invited is because Royce _King _donated a fortune to help pay for the hospitals." He grimaced at me and opened his mouth to reply only to be interrupted.

"Don't bother Emmy. Though I do believe Edward is overreacting a bit, he's right to not want to go. I don't know. Something about Royce just puts me off." Alice looked deep in thought for a moment, her fingers lightly twirling a too short piece of inky black hair around her finger, her short frame only half way through the doorway to my bedroom…in my apartment.

"Guys, really, how do you get _in _here?" I questioned with a touch of awe and hostility. It wasn't that I couldn't very easily sneak into their apartments unnoticed but no matter how many times I reset the alarm code, it _never _works. Plus, I was tired of having to call the landlord to give him the new codes. He was trying out nicknames for me and he wasn't very creative.

"Oh please Edward. The security in this building is worthy of a public park. The head of security is an old guy that falls asleep whenever you speak a more than one word sentence," Emmett exclaimed, his hands above his head in strange gestures. "But that's beside the point. We _need _to go to King's party! I could care less if he's a jackass. But we're going, even if I have to hog-tie you and drag you via horseback." He looked at me challengingly.

"You've been watching those old west movies with Jasper again, haven't you?" He nodded happily. "Who wouldn't want to watch guys with handlebar mustaches pretending to shoot each other with bad effects and even worse acting? It's like watching those Kung fu voice-over movies," he paused briefly, looking thoughtful. "Except it's Texas. And we all know that Texas is the best damn country in the world." He sighed dreamily before shooting me a crazed grin. "So, we're going?"

Every time Emmett tried to battle me like this, I always lost. Sure, I could have refused to go and he probably wouldn't have done anything to me. Well, he probably wouldn't have done anything bad enough. But I worried. Emmett was always getting himself into trouble. He had no filter between his mind and his mouth. The only place he could be himself and _not _get into any immediate trouble was at the Children's Memorial Hospital of Chicago. His childish nature and ability to understand the child patients helped him, as well as his immense medical knowledge (though nobody would believe he was a doctor if they were to see him). The large, grizzly-sized man before me was nothing but a little kid at heart that happened to have a medical degree.

I nodded reluctantly in reply and Emmett punched his fist into the air dramatically. Honestly, what was with this party? Every doctor that was going was getting excited over nothing.

Royce King was a pig, that which I was sure of. The way he handled his money was atrocious and annoying. His parents had died in an accident and he had taken full advantage of that. He took other's sympathy almost as fast as he took his parent's money and squandered it on useless and extravagant things, such as his mansion on the outskirts of the city. His family had donated so much money to the medical facilities of Chicago and was accredited with that. Before the deaths of the Kings, they had been humble and caring. But Royce was a spoiled child with no view of the value of a dollar.

"Jeez Edward, stop brooding. Look, that guy's a bastard but you were invited and it would be rude not to go," Alice reasoned quickly. She smiled cheekily before adding, "Besides, you might meet someone there…"

I rolled my eyes. Alice had been attempting to set me up with women since high school, unsuccessfully I might add. She had even gone as far as to set me up with a man seeing as I "didn't take to the scores she had set me up with". Emmett's words, not mine.

But it wasn't my fault! Quite honestly, I just couldn't see myself with these women and though I tried to like them for who they were, nothing worked. Alice was a great judge of character and would often set me up with wonderful girls with great personalities but they weren't what I was looking for. In fact, I had no idea what or who I was looking for. But whoever or whatever it was, Alice hadn't found it for me yet.

Emmett was doing a victory dance in the center of the room which greatly resembled the dance from Napoleon Dynamite. Knowing Emmett, he had probably memorized that dance.

"Emmett, stop dancing around like an idiot. You'll have plenty of time to do that when we go. So, was there any _other _reason you two were here or are did you just want to come into my home, mooch off of me, and then leave?" Both grinned sheepishly before bounding out of my room. I could hear the fridge being opened and plates clinking. Tired and a little worn from the day of work I had put in, I sluggishly made my way to my adoptive brother and sister.

Seeing them in my kitchen together was a sight. The huge man by the counter placing potato chips on the side of his plate, a big smile on his face as the small, pixie-like girl next to him jabbed him with her elbow as she spread mayo on a slice of bread brought up memories of when we were children. It was nice to know that, even though we were only siblings through adoption, we never really drifted apart over the years. In anything, our bond grew stronger. Just the thought made me smile…

"Dude, stop smiling like you're in love and come eat or you won't get any."

Way to ruin a moment, Emmett.

--

After finishing our dinner, we all relaxed by my couch, Emmett sprawled across the three-seater and Alice allowing him to put his head on her lap comfortably and me lying on the floor with my hands behind my head. It was nice, the calm, natural silence that washed over us when we had nothing to really think about. But the silence was interrupted by a gasp and a series of light thumps. I shot up from the floor and stared at Alice.

Her head was bumping against the back of the couch, her eyes wide open and glassy. Emmett and I stared worriedly at her, knowing there was nothing we could do about it except wait it out and hope it would be over soon.

As a child, Alice had been unique. I guess I would call her a Seer of sorts, otherwise known as a psychic. But, her biological parents didn't take to that lightly. They were an old-fashioned couple with great religious beliefs and thought that she had been touched by Satan. So, they resorted to more medieval methods of ridding her of her ability. Shock therapy had been a method used in earlier years of medicine.

Unfortunately for them, her ability kept coming back, more accurate than ever. She lost the memories of her childhood during these shock sessions and would have to relearn everything about herself but her parents wouldn't stop. Until Alice's doctor, Carlisle Cullen, called child protective services and put a stop to it. In the end, Carlisle ended up adopting Alice because he and his wife, Esme had taken a liking to her as they had taken a liking to Emmett and I some two years earlier.

But watching Alice now with that blank look on her face, I wished that she wasn't a psychic. It worried me that one of these days she would be crossing the street and have a vision thrown at her, causing some accident to occur and leaving her dead at the hands of strangers. She was my sister and for as long as I could remember, Emmett and I had been protecting her from the uncaring world. And we both knew that she wouldn't be accepted easily into this world we lived in.

Minutes later, she pulled out of her mind with a gasp, her expression now exhausted and confused. After a few deep breaths, she looked deeply at me, staring with abysmal puddles of grayish-blue.

"Edward, you have to go to Royce King's party." It took me a moment to realize what she was saying before I jumped up and glared at her. How dare she take something like her visions so seriously just for humor!

"Alice, this isn't funny. What the hell is wrong with you?!" I stalked off to my room, slamming the door behind me. I knew it was childish of me, but really, I felt betrayed. We had all been through so much together and the understanding we all had was strong and unwavering. So for her to just pull a stunt like that, it was upsetting.

It didn't take long for Emmett to come peaking into my room, his boyish curls bouncing atop his head and his hazel eyes watching me with a solemn look. Without another word, he walked into the room and sat on my bed. Another deep breath was taken before he spoke.

"Edward…Alice is taking it pretty hard right now. I didn't put her up to this and I highly doubt she would have done this for fun. You know how seriously she takes her visions," he paused. It had always been hard for him to take things so seriously. "She's crying. I have no idea what that vision was about but whatever it was, it involved you. So you better just get on with it and figure out why Alice was actually telling you about it. She doesn't like changing the future, remember? If she was willing to tell you, then it has to be serious." He stood up and stretched before walking to the door and turning around. "I have to go in for clinic hours, alright? You need to sort things out with Ali. You really hurt her, man." And with that, he left, a series of shutting doors echoing through the nearly empty apartment.

--

As I walked into the living room, I could hear the small sniffles coming from Alice's little curled up form on the couch. It broke my heart to see her like that again, exactly as she had been when she was a child. When she was younger, she didn't think her gift was strange. She just thought everyone had the same ability as she did, so she told everyone about her visions excitedly. Teachers called her a liar and children called her a freak and she would end up on the couch in tears every afternoon until Carlisle decidedly home schooled us all so she would feel somewhat normal.

"Ali," I called quietly, trying to gage her reaction. She stiffened for a moment before trying to control her tears and sniffles and sitting up a little straighter. I walked over to the couch and sat down next to her, reaching out a hand to pat her shoulder. "Ali, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I really thought it was a joke and –" She didn't give me a chance to continue before jumping into a hug and squeezing me until I was breathless.

"If you ever call my visions a joke again, I'll kick you where the sun don't shine." Instinctively, my knees pulled together a bit and Alice giggled. She pulled back slightly, a serious expression taking over her puffy red eyes.

"Edward, I was serious. I don't know why but you need to go to King's party. Something's going to happen but I couldn't see it. It was too blurry to tell. But there was someone there and they were with you. You need to go. You have to go." She spoke with an edge of authority to her voice, most likely gained from Esme. But the hint of anxiety in her tone made me believe that she was serious about me going.

I nodded in consent to what she said and hugged her again, wondering why this party was so damned important.

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary**: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 8: PAY IN BLOOD **

Dirty. I was still too dirty. He was on my skin, invading my pores and entering into my blood. Too dirty, I couldn't even think about anything else. I felt like I was toilet for him to wash his essence down, just so he could say he owned it. But what was worse was that…

Now I _had _to believe him.

I wondered what my parents would say, all my not-so-close friends from high school. What would they think when they found out that the girl who never took help from anyone, the one who always ruled her own life, had been completely destroyed and enslaved in a few hours time? They would know why. It was because I was weak. I had allowed these things to be done. I had not persevered and pushed myself through it without breaking down. In the end, I had shivered like a cat left out of the house in the middle of a thunderstorm and cried like a child without its bottle.

I was a slut, a whore to be lent out to those who were willing to pay the right price and there was nothing I could do about it except grin and bear it. Just like James said I would.

_Yes, you like that, don't you, Isabella? I see you shaking beneath me. Yes, you enjoy it very much. _

_Say my name Isabella. Let everyone know who can make you feel this way! _

_The other girls will be jealous to see that I have spent so much time with you. You will walk out of here proudly, telling them all about how I made you feel. If you can walk, that is…_

_Scream it, Isabella! Scream! SCREAM!!!!_

Unconsciously, I began scratching at the marks on my wrists and ankles, trying to pull the chain-link bruises from the skin. The van jostled us all around, nearly knocking us all over with the force. We had been on the road for days; that I knew. The darkness in the van had changed several times to a lighter shade and on the occasion we were released from the van to relieve ourselves or eat (something the girls did all huddled together with petite bites of their simple sandwiches and careful sips of their water), the sun would either be shining brightly on the open field we stood by or the moon and stars would be white above us on the empty highway. No girl ran away. We all knew that where we were, these places in the middle of nowhere, no one would take us in. There was no one around that cared enough to take in girls that were practically branded with the stench of sweat and semen and blood. All three I could taste in the back of my throat and on my tongue, choking me constantly with the memories and the tears.

It was cold. They had turned up the AC in the van and had refused to let the girls and I change before we left. Our scantily clad bodies weren't producing enough heat and some were just falling asleep next to one another in a strange form of hibernation. I couldn't sleep, not while knowing the men in the large van were there, so close that I could smell the cigarettes on their breath. Katea was sleeping with her head on my shoulder. She had fallen quiet after several hours of sobbing when we first left the building. I didn't even remember leaving. All I remembered was what had happened and how much I had hoped that it had all been some sort of horrible nightmare. It wasn't and I wish I hadn't remembered that little fact. Ignorance is bliss after all.

--

They unloaded us into a warehouse, pushing us all into a large room that was unheated but already stocked with the same military style barracks as the place in New York. We were all forced onto our knees by our selected barracks and pills were pushed into our mouth before they made us swallow them dry. I didn't know what they were for but I was sure that I didn't want to know. After that, they gave us ten minutes before we were supposed to go to bed, like children with a bedtime. Well, maybe I could treat this like a military camp. It would make the picture easier to swallow than the truth.

Katea's bunk was above my own and she quickly pulled me up to her. A layout of creams was already on her bed and she held my hand as she applied them to my bruises. I let her do it even though I knew they would never be able to get the dirt out. Only acid could possibly clean my skin and that would be very hard to find unless we were in a chemistry lab. They burned but I didn't cry out or complain. The other pain between my legs and on my thighs distracted me so much more than this ever could. She spoke to me in Hungarian, not even caring that I couldn't understand what she was saying. It was comforting nonetheless and I found myself drifting off to sleep on her bed. I don't remember what happened after that.

--

The next morning didn't pass quickly. They had us shower where the other girls held me back when I tried to grab for a loofah. They wouldn't allow me to wash myself, to clean off the dirt that was still in my skin. Why wouldn't they let me wash!? I was screaming for them to let me, to just let me get the soap and scrub my skin raw with it but they refused to let go as they lowered the heat of the water and Katea and Rosalie ran a soft washcloth over my bruised skin. The small, gentle strokes weren't enough. They would never be able to wash off the dirt like a hard loofah would. It would never be enough.

After the shower, I felt as if nothing had changed. My hair still reeked of that too moist musky scent that had come off James's skin.

As I made my bed, I noticed how meticulous the other girls were being, how careful they were to make sure everything was in the right place. The clothes they were forced to wear was all perfectly straight and in place and looking new. It wasn't until a few minutes afterwards that I noticed I was being the same way. It _bothered _me to see that my sheets were rumpled or my pillow wasn't perfectly aligned on the bed. Everything had to be just right, no matter how long it took me to get it that way.

It had surprised me to find that most of the girls, despite their lack of knowledge in speaking English, knew how to read books in English. Many would sit on their beds in groups and just read while occasionally looking up to see if anything new was going to happen. When Katea asked me if I wanted to borrow a book, I merely nodded and took the book from her hand. When I looked over the first words of the book, I couldn't stand to look at them any longer. They were speaking of a normal life. I didn't want to read anymore.

--

Victoria had ushered us half of the girls into one van and the other half into two other vans, scowling at me as soon as I came into view. The girls were shivering, the wind blowing cold and harshly over our bodies. That didn't matter to Victoria. She just talked in Hungarian to the girls while I was left in the dark. I turned to Rosalie in hope that she would tell me. She saw the look I was giving her and quickly explained.

"They are taking us to our first job here in Chicago. I don't understand. They can't honestly expect you to be useful now!" She shook her head, her eyes wide and almost frantic looking as she called to Victoria.

"Victoria, ő semmit! Ő fájdalom. Majd a túl sok. Kérem, mutassa kegyelmezz!" Rosalie cried to Victoria, ignoring the look of anger she was getting from the driver. The other girls began crying out complaints as well in their native tongue.

"Ő nem lesz, azt mondom, amelyek!" Victoria snapped back hastily. "Tudja következményeit a megbízások sem." That quieted them down as they all turned to me with sorrowful looks on their faces. I didn't need to understand what they were saying to know what they were saying. Tonight was my first night and I didn't have a chance.

* * *

TRANSLATIONS:

"Victoria, ő semmit! Ő fájdalom. Majd a túl sok. Kérem, mutassa kegyelmezz!" = Victoria, she can't! She is in pain. It'll be too much. Please, show mercy!

"Ő nem lesz, azt mondom, amelyek!" = She will do as I say, as will you.

"Tudja következményeit a megbízások sem." = You know the consequences of defying orders.

* * *

When the van finally came to a complete stop, the girls seemed to have a sort of silence that came over them. They held hands with one another and squeezed them gently, trying to give off comfort. The girls took my hands in their own and rubbed soothing circles into my palm and wrist despite the bruises. It was nice to know that I had someone there for me. We were pulled out of the van, me tripping over the heels they had set me in, until we all stood shivering in front of a large house that had lights flashing through the windows, the smell of alcohol in the air. The street looked deserted excluding this one lively house. We were pushed in; some girls dragging their feet while others walked in without resistance, their shoulders slumped.

Victoria and the driver were the only two to watch us. It wouldn't have been hard for the ten girls here to overpower them, but it seemed as if, through it all, the fight was gone. It just wasn't worth it anymore. I wanted to fight but the knowledge of what I had let _him _do to me was enough to make me feel like a hypocrite, a coward that is telling another coward to be brave.

As soon as we made it to the front door, it opened for us and we were pushed in, Victoria taking the lead in her short red dress and high stiletto heels. The man that was waiting for us eyed us all, his eyes lingering on a few select girls, before he fully faced Victoria, handing her a large envelope.

"Here are your girls, Mr. Parks. I hope you will find them satisfactory." She stepped to the side and allowed the alleged Mr. Parks to roam amongst us. When he came to me, he stopped and leaned down, picking up a strand of my hair and sniffing it. I stiffened, remembering who _else _had done the same thing not too long ago.

His hands went down to my waist and his nose nuzzled my neck. "Hmmm, I think this one will me accompanying me for a majority of the night," he murmured happily. "They are satisfactory, Victoria, just as you said they would be. Now, I do believe the others are waiting for their…_entertainment_." Something wet crossed my neck as the fingers around my waist squeezed me a bit too roughly. It took me a moment to realize that it was his tongue and then, I nearly blanched in disgust. Fear was finally setting in again. Before, I had been frozen in a state that hadn't allowed me to speak for days but now that everything was coming back fresh and I would have to experience it again, my blood chilled.

The man pulled me along with him into a larger room, the room that seemed to be holding the loudest of the party goers. As soon as we entered, the hungry eyes of the men drifted over us, taking in our skin and our lack of clothing. They descended upon the girls, a couple men taking one girl while others took them alone to separate rooms or the couches. I saw Rosalie, her body being pushed down to the largest couch in the room. Face down, the man removed her minimal clothing and plunged into her from behind. She didn't even flinch. She just stared unseeingly into an imaginary abyss, never once blinking or making a sound that would tell me if she was in pain or not.

As Mr. Parks led me to a room, he released his grip on me for a second to begin removing his shirt. The instinct to run was strong and pushed me to turn around. As I did, I came face to face with the one person I didn't want to see right now: Victoria.

"You will go in there like a good, obedient girl, and let him do whatever he likes to you. You _will _do as you are told, do you understand girl?" She spat at me angrily, her voice low and seamed with authority.

"I owe you nothing," I whispered, my eyes unblinking at her. She just smiled at me, her wicked lips turning into a startling smirk.

"Tell that to your family." She held up a two pictures. One had a man in a police uniform opening the car door to an old cruiser and the other held a woman laughing inside her kitchen, both totally oblivious to the fact that they were being photographed.

"Renee, Charlie, how did you find them?" I choked out, unable to say much more. Victoria just smiled and turned me around to face Mr. Parks. He wasn't looking at my face, only my body now. Without another word, he led me into a room that would lead me back to my nightmares and memories.

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD. DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary: **Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

**A/N**: Impossibly long A/N at the bottom of the page. I'll meet you there…eventually. OH yeah, I have realized that I am an idiot. Somehow, despite my major love of Harry Potter, I made a major boo boo when I mentioned it in my story. Did anyone notice that I was stupid and used **Hungarian** instead of **Bulgarian **in this story? In Harry Potter, they speak Bulgarian (you know, like Viktor Krum and stuff). The only mentioning of Hungarian was the Hungarian Horntail and she didn't speak Hungarian. I think she roared a bit, but that's it. Oh well, I'm sorry for being completely dense and forgetting that major fact. I apologize for any major HP fans. Anyway, go on and read.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or it's characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 9: NEWSFLASH**

"Let me go Emmett." He shook his head stubbornly, his curls bouncing lightly on his head. The guy looked like a five year old from where I was standing. A very large, very muscular five year old.

"Not until you take off the tie. We're going to a party, not a business lunch." I shook my head, mocking the way he had but he didn't take notice. Instead, he just tightened his grip on my leg, holding me in place. It was as if he was trying to reenact a young child trying to keep his father from leaving. Only, with someone as large as Emmett, it was just plain creepy. He was cutting off the circulation in my foot and it was impossible to move when a two-hundred pound man was sitting on your foot.

"Emmett, it is up to me whether or not I remove the tie or not. I feel more comfortable with it on, so I'll leave it on." He pouted and relinquished his grip on my leg, standing quickly. Unsteadily, I walked towards the bed, trying to rid myself of the numbing prickles that were now swallowing my foot whole. I dropped down onto the bed, shielding my eyes from the light of the fluorescents above me. A looming shadow covered me up and I could see the faint outline of my brother, a large smirk on his face.

"Take off the tie or I'll choke you with it." His next move wasn't a surprise. His arms reached out for the tie at a high speed, but I was quicker. Before he could reach, I rolled underneath his arms and hopped off the bed, running to my front door. I would have made it out too but unfortunately for me, I was being tag teamed by a giant, a midget, and a historian.

"Where do you think you're going, Edward?" I groaned, letting them know that they would all pay the next time they came by to eat lunch. I had survived off of take out for several months before. The food in the fridge was particularly there for them, especially since they often came by to mooch off of my stash. But they didn't know that. The food could just mysteriously _disappear_…

"Jasper, please, let me go, _please_," I begged, hoping that maybe he would show me mercy, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. Alice stood behind him, a firm look on her face, her forefinger poking the small of his back lightly, just enough to tell me that she was in control of this puppet. I silently cursed Jasper for being so totally and utterly whipped.

"Sorry, Edward; you know the rules." He smiled sheepishly, his southern accent drawing out the words. "What Alice says goes," we said in chorus, Emmett even joining in as he pulled Alice up into a large hug. I sighed, knowing I was unable to get away with it. Running now would do me no good. I could outrun them all (though they didn't want to admit it, I was the fastest), but running would just give them another reason to use this against me and hold me up for favors. It seemed like for every one mistake I made, they each got a favor. That was just the way it worked in my family.

"Fine, but I'm wearing the tie. I don't care if it's a part –" I was cut off by a light snipping noise. I turned around to see Alice with a pair of scissors in her hand and a Cheshire grin on her face. My eyes widening, I put my hand to my tie and pulled at the knot, watching in horror as the ruined tie slid right off my shirt and into my hands, the knot the only thing holding the two pieces together.

"There, now we all win. Emmett doesn't have to see Edward wearing the tie and I got rid of Edward's fashion atrocity."

"How does that make everyone a winner? Jasper and I got nothing out of this!" I nearly screamed in frustration.

"Actually," Jasper said, "I win too. If Alice is happy, you know what that means." He gave me a very out-of-character look and chuckled when I shivered slightly in disgust. Despite the fact that she was adopted and not in any way blood related to me, she was still my sister.

"This is wrong, so very, very wrong," I replied, my disbelieving tone making them all laugh and giggle. Well, it was a good thing they were getting a laugh now. I was now rethinking my plan of starving them. Maybe food poisoning was a better way to go.

--

I had forced Emmett to leave the house early, ensuring that we would be able to stop for gas on the way to King's house on the outskirts of town. Unfortunately, he had insisted on retrieving "snackage" as he called it, for the road. Grudgingly, I complied.

We stepped into the store, Emmett running towards the coolers to pick up a soda and a bag of chips while I grabbed a cup of coffee for the long night ahead. As I stirred in the creamer, my foot bumped against a wire newspaper stand and a copy fell out of the rack, scattering haphazardly across the floor. Quickly so to not draw attention to myself, I picked it up quickly, sorting it back together. Realizing it was a lost cause to try and fix the many sections back into their original order, I gathered the stack of papers and paid for them along with Emmett's snacks.

In the car, Emmett happily tore open his bags and broke the seal of his cola, leaving me to read away at the paper I had just bought. It had been months since I had last read a newspaper. My months spent sitting in a doctor's office, listening to others talk about their problems normally took all my attention and didn't leave me with enough energy to really care about what was going on in the world. It was easier to just try and forget about everything else, anyway. I forked through the sections, skipping over the sports and the comics, and instead looking towards the community section. I rolled my eyes at the page.

Royce King's face covered the center of the page as the newspaper printers glorified him as best they could. It sickened me that not only had he taken to this new publicity, but he used it to his advantage with the public. I could only assume that the next election for mayor was in the bag for him despite his lack of knowledge of politics. Popularity votes would win him the title. I read the sidebars, looking at the weather we would be having (cold and windy as usual) before skipping over a strange article.

**MISSING NEW YORKER**

Curious, I read on.

_Two weeks ago, Ms. Sybil MacAfee went to her neighbor's home to borrow a cup of sugar only to find that she wasn't home. As she would later find, her young neighbor hadn't been home for more than five days. _

_New York officials have called for a city search for Isabella Swan, 21. Witnesses say that she had shown up for work October 20__th__, 8:30 A.M., on time as usual and had left at 6 P.M. that evening, as per usual. Owner of "Pam's Coffee Hut", Pamela Thompson, spoke to New York officials. _

"_One of my workers said she came in and bought a cup of coffee. He's pretty sure she comes in every morning too, but he isn't too sure. We have quite a few customers on a daily basis." _

_Between 6 P.M. October 20__th__ and November 3__rd__, there are no accounts for where Ms. Swan was. As far as officials know, she has no credit cards and has not made any deposits or withdraws from her bank account. Ms. Swan graduated from Forks High School, Washington, in spring of 2003 and now takes online college courses. Her professors have also denied that she has contacted them or sent in assignments. She has not been seen. There is now a statewide search for Ms. Swan. New York officials ask nearby states to also be out on the look for Ms. Isabella Swan. Any information on her whereabouts is to be reported immediately to the New York Police Department (NYPD 1-823-555-4238). _

_Description:_

_Eyes: Brown_

_Hair: Brown_

_Race: Caucasian_

_Height: 5'4_

_Age: 21_

There was no picture or any sign of what the girl looked like. Internally, I wondered exactly how they expected us to be helpful if we didn't even know what this girl looked like. Their description was vague. I'm sure a majority of the population in New York had brown hair and brown eyes and was white. Annoyed with the lack of information and helpful reading, I set the newspaper down and tried to ignore Emmett's loud munching as I rested back in my seat and waited on my impending doom.

--

The loud bass rung through my ears, making me go deaf with each beat. I nearly covered my ears at the horrible music that pretty much resembled screaming profanities and other pretty obvious suggestions. These words were only found in the urban dictionary. Unfortunately, Emmett had threatened to use my massacred tie to drag me along if I didn't walk into the party calmly and with enthusiasm. Faking enthusiasm was easy but walking in quietly was difficult when I just wanted to make any sort of noise to distract me from the "music" that was now invading my eardrums. The heat in the air due to the mass amounts of dancers in the room was stifling.

"Come on Edward, get with it!" Emmett screamed, just barely reaching his voice out enough for me to hear. It was strange. His booming voice blended in well with the horrible sounds that were emitted through the large speakers. I nodded glumly but tried to act excited for Emmett. It was unfair of me to act like a killjoy when he was obviously completely stoked about this event. I would have been too had I been Emmett.

The front door was open for us, a man I was familiar with as King's lackey taking people's coats, the Chicago wind pushing us further into the house. The stench of hard liquor and beer permeated the clean night air and made me internally blanch. I nodded to the lackey as I handed over my blazer and walked in with a bouncing Emmett. The house was filled with party-goers, all of them familiar. All of them were the doctors that I had worked with or knew of as some of the best in Chicago. But another thing became completely obvious to me.

They were all men.

The same thought must have passed Emmett, who had been completely obsessed with meeting the women that he assumed would be here. He turned to me and screamed over the music, "Is King gay? I couldn't tell!" I almost smiled but honestly, I was just as curious. I looked around again but felt my hand being pulled and tugged to an empty corner of the room. My body was jostled through the crowd before I came face to face with none other than Royce King. Emmett too had been pulled along with me and stared in confusion at the investor.

"Glad you gentlemen came," he screamed over the music, a smirk coming over his face. "The entertainment will be arriving shortly." Just as he spoke, a whistle was blown and people's heads shot towards the door where it looked like the lackey was holding up a group. Royce smirked again and excused himself, the music having already been silenced, everyone's murmurs and complaints filling the room. Only one of the people from the group outside the door came into the room. A woman with a very sharp, almost angular and cat-like face and wild red hair entered the room and spoke to Royce in hushed tones. Royce nodded and pulled an envelope from the pocket of his open jacket. The woman didn't even open it to see what was inside. She just nodded and opened the door.

What I saw next shocked me. A score of women, all wearing scanty amounts of clothing, entered the room. From what I could see, all were young, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, their bare bodies pale and shaking in the cool air. Emmett nudged me with his elbow, whispering, "He freaking got strippers! I knew this party was a good idea!" I didn't nod in response but my eyes grazed over their curving figures instinctually before I internally slapped myself for looking at them like fresh meat in front of a pack of hungry wolves. Once my mind had cleared of lustful visions of women, clear thoughts came to me. I felt a gag escaping my throat.

From what I could see, three of the girls had purple marks showing through their clothing, indistinct marks stretching out from beneath their tiny bra-like tops and hiding beneath the shadow of their thighs. Their pale skin showed the markings clearly, their deep bluish purple blush hinting around the edges. How could no one –not even Emmett –see this? Then again, the lights were dimmed and the still flashing colors from the timed stray light machine were practically blinding the already deaf people.

"Gentlemen," Royce called out, his voice ringing in my ears just like the bass. "You all have probably been wondering why I didn't invite any of our female co-workers in to join in the festivities. Well, I thought maybe a little entertainment would be in order for tonight." He gestured towards the girls with a familiar smirk on his face. "These women have been paid generously to assist you all with your…_needs_ tonight, so feel free to do whatever you wish." He turned away only before calling back over his shoulder, "Just please don't break the merchandise."

He went back to looking over the girls before pulling a blonde woman from the bunch, her eyes narrowed and blue, glaring at him while he smiled at her anger. His hand grasped the back of her neck and squeezed, her body quivering beneath his strong hold as he whispered something in her ear and dragged her to the back room. As he left, the music began pumping through the house again and the men all went back to looking at the women. Almost shyly at first, a few men came forward and selected a woman and dragged her to the dance floor. But then, a few bolder men just came and quickly grabbed a girl before dragging her to one of the many doors of King's mansion, the door shutting silently in their wake.

Emmett and I stared in horror at what was happening, both of us giving each other looks occasionally to make sure we were both still sane and completely sure of what was going on. The red-haired woman and a large man watched over the remaining girls, the five that were quickly being taken by the other men in the room, occasionally two men dragging away one girl to an empty couch and sitting her down between them. As if by instinct, I grabbed Emmett's shirt and pulled him in through a door. Thankfully, no one had yet entered to continue with the _activities_.

I clicked the lock securely before turning back to Emmett whose face was in a state of pure shock. His eyes didn't waver from the door and his normally upturned lips were now in a straight line.

"Edward," he began, "we have to call the police. Did you see what….I can't even…dear god, what the hell was King even…." He couldn't even finish his sentence. That was the same way my mind was reacting, stuttering out unsure thoughts of the scared girls' faces.

"I don't know Emmett," I replied, leaning my head against the door, the bass once again pulsing through the oak. "If we call the police now, we don't even know what will happen. Em, King has got this city under his thumb. He can lie about all of it, just say someone else hired them and he had nothing to do with it." Emmett nodded, leaning against the other end of the wall before sliding down to seat himself.

"Edward, we can't just leave and act as if nothing happened. I mean…did you see their faces? The…_marks_?" he whispered solemnly.

"We aren't leaving!" I retorted angrily. How could he even think such a thing? Am I really so cold that he would believe me to be cruel as well?

"Look, we have to do something. Maybe we can talk to Royce about it later or something." I shook my head, unwilling to let time pass while we sat around and do nothing. Instead, I unlocked the door and stuck my head outside. What I saw disgusted me to no end. Men were fornicating with the young girls on the couches and seats, some just kissing them messily while others completely sheathed themselves within the others. I just thanked God that their sounds were drowned out by the resonating noise. I quickly looked away, unable to look at the faces of the girls and turned towards the door where a few men were still standing around, looking like they were arguing over which girl they would take. My eyes glanced over them quickly and found one that was receiving less attention that the others. A girl with a curtain of hair shielding her face was wearing a shiny metallic blue bikini set, her long dark hair covering her cleavage and the pale skin of her back. I set my eyes on her in hope that maybe I could get her alone for just a moment, to just try and figure things out.

Calmly, I walked over, nodded to the man standing behind the girls, and grabbed the girl's hand. Her muscles seemed to freeze in my grasp, but I didn't hesitate to pull her along with me, despite her locked muscles. The red haired woman glared at the back of her head and pushed her forward, allowing her to fall into my chest. She immediately pushed herself back on her heels, nearly falling over in the process. I hadn't noticed but the heels she was wearing weren't helping her walk. In fact, she was nearly falling to the floor with every step she took. To assist her, I put my arm around her waist only to have it smacked away. Cautiously, I took her hand again and pulled her along with me.

As soon as we reached the open door, I lost all my sanity and just pushed her into the room, readying myself for the moment that was about to present itself.

"What's your name?" I spurted out quickly, hoping that I would have enough time to act before someone else came to interrupt us."

"Uh…csinál nem anyag…" she said, her eyes down to the floor. "Hol akar Én?" Confused, I looked at her. What was she _saying_?

Emmett was still sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. The click of heels woke him from his trance-like state before he glared daggers at me. "Edward, this is not the solution to our problem. Bringing in a hooker isn't what I had in –"

"I am not a hooker!" The girl growled loudly before slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and a blush on her face. She lowered them quickly, mumbling "bús" under her breath.

* * *

HUNGARIAN TRANSLATIONS:

"Csinál nem anyag" – "Does no matter."

"Hol akar Én?" - "Where want I?"

"Bús." – "Sorry"

Grammar doesn't exactly matter to me in Bella's Hungarian translations. She was learning from the others and hasn't exactly been with them for very long. That's why the sentences don't really make sense grammatically.

Oh yeah, a couple lines down, there is a Spanish translation. You all should know what it means (it's common knowledge, really) but in case you don't, here's the translations:

"No hablamos ingles" – "No speak English" or "I don't speak English"

* * *

"Did she just say "bus"?" Emmett asked in shock. The girl glared at him before turning her glare to the wall. "I'm sorry," she muttered angrily, her eyes never tearing away from the wall.

With small, unsure steps, I walked towards her slowly. She reminded me of a wild deer. One false move and she would topple away on her four inch heels.

"It's okay," I said cautiously, extending my hand towards her. "My name is Edward Cullen. What's yours?" Her head shot up at my name and her eyes widened at the sight of my hand. She immediately stepped back only to trip over herself and fall back against the wall with a large 'thump'. She grabbed hold of the doorknob in an iron grip, her eyes not wavering for a moment.

"No hablamos ingles," she said quickly. I almost smirked at her. Really, did she think she could get off by speaking Spanish?

"Look, we just need to know your name and we know you speak English. Tell us or we'll force it out of you," Emmett spat out. The girl's eyes widened before she nodded, her shoulders trembling wildly. I glared at Emmett venomously while he just shrugged. He had no idea what subtlety was. His ways were always to act and ask questions later. The idiot didn't know when to shut up.

"No Emmett," I retorted angrily, nearly seething at his insensitivity. Turning back to the girl, I tried to soften my approach. "I'm sorry. Don't worry, we don't do anything, we just need your help. Please, can you help us out?" She looked back at Emmett's form with wide eyes before shooting back at me quickly, her body unconsciously moving back into the wall.

"If you are having trouble in your relationship, I can't help you. This is between you two," she muttered quietly, looking away with a blush on her face. I could hardly see her features clearly with the dimmed lights, so I edged forward toward the light switch. As the fluorescents clicked on, she hissed and covered her eyes with her forearm. I was just able to cover my gasp with her reaction to the light. The bruises along her legs and neck and arms were ghastly to look at. The deep purple and black marks shadowed her pale skin, a few yellowing marks marring her wrists and ankles.

"Oh god," Emmett gasped, his eyes unable to leave her skin. Had it been under any other circumstances, I would have scolded him for looking at her, but this was different. No normal person would have been able to look away from the damage that had been inflicted upon this girl's body. Emmett jumped to his feet, startling the girl and ran to a door that was on the other side of the large room, revealing a dark bathroom. He switched on the light and let the door begin swinging closed behind him. The sound of his shoes shuffling against the marble floor and plastic containers clinking together was all I heard before he came out with bandages and a topical cream in his hands.

He made to grab the girl's hand but she immediately hissed at him, keeping her hand as far away from him as possible. He sighed and turned to me, his eyes pleading to work with him. I looked back at the girl. "He just wants to dress the bruises. I promise, he won't do anything wrong. Trust me, he's a doctor. He knows what he's doing. He won't do anything inappropriate." Her eyes narrowed and she spat out, "Everyone in that room is a doctor. Can you tell me that they won't do anything inappropriate with the others?" I lowered my eyes in shame. Those men out there were some of Chicago's finest doctors and practitioners. The trust that I had once had in them had already all but disappeared into nothingness.

"I can't promise anything of them, but I can promise you that we won't hurt you. _I _won't _ever _hurt you. I swear on my own life that I won't." I hoped my eyes displayed the honesty that I was trying to express to her and it seemed that they did. Within a few moments, she was sitting on the edge of the large king-sized bed, her hands intertwined on her lap, wringing one another. Emmett was using cotton balls to apply the cream to her skin, his knowledge of medicine much more vast than my own in this situation. I knew the basics, but when Emmett took control, he knew _exactly _what to do. He was always with children and knew how to keep the situation light.

"So, how long have you been speaking English?" The girl huffed and turned her head away, her eyes closed in a grimace whenever Emmett pushed lightly on the bruises. He was being cautious now that I had given him my silent warning. I swore to this girl that I would never hurt her and I'd be damned if he broke my promise. Now that the light was on, I could see her features much more clearly than I had been able to in the main hall's flashing lights. Her skin looked to be fairly clear save for the bruises, a pale, almost translucent ivory overtaking her entire body. The metallic blue of her clothing made her almost look unreal in the light, her skin taking the blue and transforming it into a different color, an unnatural color that, in the flashing lights, must have looked much more alluring to the other men. She hadn't given me the chance to see her face clearly, her dark mahogany colored hair covering her shoulders, face, and about half of her backside and front. It looked like it had been years since she had last cut it but it was undamaged, the ends looking naturally healthy despite the wild curls within the straight yet thick hair. She was shivering lightly. Emmett grabbed a spare sheet from beneath the pillows and handed it to her, the girl taking it cautiously and covering her shoulders with it.

"Ma'am, I know this must be a difficult situation for you, but I need you to tell us your name. We want to help," I spoke softly, hoping that by using a calmer approach, she would cooperate more. But she shook her head stubbornly before looking up. What I saw almost caused me to step back in shock.

Large brown eyes stared at me with fire, not passionate but sure and anger-filled, ready to burn those who refused to acknowledge what she was saying. They were set in nicely with the long, naturally curled, dark lashes that surrounded them, setting off a warmer tone on her pale skin. It took me a moment to realize that she wasn't wearing make up at all. Her face was bare of any sort of make up, the clear skin of her heart shaped face radiating a sickly pale color in the fluorescents. I could only assume that this was due to the fluorescents.

"You cannot help me, nor will you attempt to. I do not need your help with anything, especially not with my so-called "captors"," she raised one of her unoccupied hands to make quotations in the air with her fingers while Emmett looked up from his work.

"What do you mean, "so-called 'captors'"?" Emmett questioned, his head cocked to the side and a frown on his face. I looked to the girl with a similar expression. She sighed and turned her head away, her eyes sad as they left our direction. I wanted to protest, to tell her not to look away, but I refrained. The feeling that gave off the instinctual feeling to pull her face back was new and unprecedented. Perhaps it was the same feeling of protection that I wanted over this girl. She was so weak looking, her thin body so small compared to the men in the house. She was so pale, I was surprised she didn't look more dead.

"I mean that I am with them because I choose to stay with them," she whispered solemnly, her voice trembling with her shoulders. My arm reached out to hold her but Emmett's disbelieving stare stopped me for a moment and made me rethink what I was doing. Instead of making my initial move, I sat on the floor in front of her, my legs crossed beneath me and my hands pressed underneath my thighs. I wanted to give the appearance that I was defenseless. It would take moments for me to stand up and attack had I actually wanted to. She would have the chance to get away in a normal, dangerous situation.

"Please don't act so cautious," she murmured quietly. "I'm not made of glass." I stared at her disbelievingly but removed my hands from beneath me nonetheless.

"Emmett," I whispered to him, hoping she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice what I was saying. She was staring up at the fan that centered the ceiling, her eyes never leaving the never-ending cycle. "It's Stockholm," I whispered quickly. A low hiss escaped the girl as she glared at Emmett and I, a look of anger and murder in her eyes and face.

"I do not have Stockholm syndrome. I am not emotionally attached to my captors, you ignorant bastard," she said venomously, glaring daggers and me and my shocked face. It wasn't so much the fact that she had called me a bastard or the fact that she had responded in the first place that had shocked me the most. It was really just the fact that she even _knew _what Stockholm syndrome was. Even Emmett had taken a few seconds before a look of realization had crossed his face. "Mr. Cullen, you are very much mistaken. You have no idea what you are dealing with."

"You don't understand, do you?" She didn't wait for a response. She stood unsteadily, prying off her heels as quickly as she could with the sheet on her shoulders while grabbing onto the bed. When she finally released her feet, she let out a sigh of relief and paced the floor, her steps unsteady and calculated. "This isn't a matter of whether I want to stay or not. It's the blood that will be lost in the process. We're like drugs, being shipped illegally across the country, ready for any man or woman to take us and use us. We are disposable, Mr. Cullen." Emmett gasped out loud.

"You can't be serious," he said disbelievingly. "Trafficking…in Chicago? No, it's impossible…" Emmett shook his head, unable to look fully at the girl.

"I gain nothing from lying Mr…Emmett…" she said cautiously, testing Emmett's reaction. Emmett didn't react, just continued shaking his head in shock. The growing need for information ate away at my innards and forced me onto my knees. "Please, miss, you need to tell us what's going on. We can't just let this continue. Please, at least a name." Her pacing slowed to a slight shift from foot to foot before she finally looked away from us, facing the wall and never turning away from it.

With a cracking voice, she responded.

"Isabella Swan."

**A/N PLEASE READ**: Hey guys! I know, I'm finally back and writing again. I'm so sorry for the wait. As I said in my last chapter's note, I've been very busy. I'm exhausted and I kind of wish the world would stop spinning for a moment so I can just breathe in the toxin filled air. But then, one side of the earth would overheat and millions of people (depending on which side of the earth is facing the sun when it stops) will die. Anyway, I got a 2 in solo and ensemble, so I am not going to state, which is upsetting. I know I tried really hard but I know I can do better. I'm in for hell when I put myself through my new practice regimen.

I cut my hair! It's now very short (it's supposed to be called a 'razored, layered bob'. I, personally, think that name is stupid). Anyway, this stuff doesn't really matter. The point is I've got to explain this chapter.

You may be thinking, "Hmm, Bella is acting strangely calm around these guys. What's going on here?" Well, she's scared shitless (pardon my French…or Hungarian in this case). She feels like she has to act a certain way around men, especially since she has been so disciplined physically. She can't really react negatively in a physical way, but she can't help it. She naturally doesn't want to feel pain and so she's extremely cautious. Besides, it's easier to act angrily rather than admit that you are scared. Plus, this is just Bella's character. She represses emotions very well.

As for Bella's butchering of the Hungarian language, she was doing this for a reason. She doesn't want to admit that she is human, just like the men that are doing all this stuff to her. The other girls are Hungarian and so she is pretending to be that too in order to protect her sanity a bit. Plus, she never truly expected anyone to care what her name was and she doesn't want to waste it on anyone. She can't trust these guys as easily as we readers can. We know they wouldn't do anything to hurt her, but she doesn't. Honestly, she expected a push into a bed and a _WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM_ kind of thing to happen. That's all she expected and this meeting was unexpected and unnerving to her.

The article, despite its crappiness (the reporter was drunk while writing it ), was important. I couldn't just randomly introduce the two characters together without proper preparation and I wanted to wait a chapter before they met, but I knew that they needed to meet soon. So, I bided for introducing them this chapter and continuing the story in the next chapter. So this will have to do for now. The chapter started out pretty light and sort of stepped up a bit in the plot area. I kind of wanted to ease you all into the seriousness. All the darkness and the anger and the oppression really takes its toll on me and it tires me out a bit. I feel pretty tired right now from just thinking about it. But I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for this story.

Okay, I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing so much last chapter. I appreciate all the support I've gotten from readers and would like to thank you all for being so caring and understanding. I've gotten a couple really heart-filled reviews that really just make me smile or that make me so glad that I actually started writing this story. I appreciate it all.

Oh and there's a poll on my profile. Please look into it!

Thanks so much! REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!!!

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! PLEASE DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Hey everybody! Sorry I didn't update last week…or whenever it was that I last updated my other stories. I've been busy beyond belief recently. Oh well, I'm just glad I've finally gotten this done. Anyway, I've gotten loads of reviews from all you amazing reviewers, so thank you so much. I'm happy to hear that this story is making some of you think about the severity of human trafficking, especially since a huge majority of its customers are in the US.

Anyway, I got a couple reviews a week or so ago from Zedonky. She was telling me how much she hated Victoria…and I had a little idea. In the bottom A/N there'll be an explanation of how Victoria got where she is now and why she's the woman delivering these girls to their doom. I think if you all understand her a little better, you might have a slightly different opinion of her. Though most of you will probably still hate her. Well, on with the chapter!

**Disclaimer: …… -beware of the subtle subliminal message in this disclaimer-**

**Edward: **Sovoyita would like to state that she _does not own Twilight or its characters_.

**Bella**: And she'd also like to apologize to the characters that are being used in this troubling story. No characters were harmed in the making of this story (not really, anyway).

**Edward**: Could've fooled me –grumbles to self-. She sure doesn't _seem _like she's sorry.

**Bella**: Oh shut it, Edward. You know that she's trying to send a message, just like any author would. Besides, I don't mind. She's offered to write a love scene later in this story if that's what the readers want. I think I'll **respond **to the **poll** on her **profile** too. –blushes-

**Edward**: …..Umm…I would like to take back any negative comments that I may have said previous to this. -lustful gaze at Bella-

_Previously on Human Trafficking:_

_The growing need for information ate away at my innards and forced me onto my knees. "Please, miss, you need to tell us what's going on. We can't just let this continue. Please, at least a name." Her pacing slowed to a slight shift from foot to foot before she finally looked away from us, facing the wall and never turning away from it. _

_With a cracking voice, she responded._

"_Isabella Swan." _

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 10: STEEL CONNECTIONS**

**EPOV**

_Isabella Swan_. The missing girl, the vague description that didn't do justice to the woman in front of me, everything, was now so much more real.

When you look at a Missing Person article, you never truly feel that connection, that need to find the missing person. Because even if you did want to find them, there was never going to be a pull unless you felt some sort of spark, that hint of light beaming in your mind as you reread through the article over and over again. But now that I could connect the face to the description, I could see everything so much more clearly. This was Isabella Swan, the missing girl, the one who had been missing for more than a week now. I had been irritated with the newspaper for not being more specific, for not giving us more information so we could find the girl. I realized instantaneously that though I was angered by the article, I had felt no need to go searching for the girl. I just wished they would make it easier for whoever _was _looking for her, that those people, her loved ones, her family, could have some closure if they found that their daughter or sister or niece was no longer alive.

"Edward, are you alright? Edward!" A large hand was waving in front of my eyes suddenly and I was able to finally see the confused yet wary face of the girl. _Isabella…_

I stood quickly, watching as she shrunk back away from me, trying once again to sink into the wall. I ignored her actions and stepped forward. "Isabella...you're the girl from New York…" Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in shock. She was frozen in her spot as I stepped forward. I hadn't meant to frighten her, but I needed to understand everything. That meant getting every piece of information I could. The connection, once nonexistent, had suddenly become thousands of steel cables, linking me to this one being. I felt I would die if I ignored this new, unbreakable thread that connected us. I had to do whatever I could, anything, to save these girls. Because all of them only had one face now, all of them were connected to the woman-child in front of me.

"Isabella," I whispered to her, trying to keep my voice even and soothing, "we need to know everything. Everything you can tell us. We're going to help you. Please, trust us." Her wide brown eyes stared at me in a mix of confusion and possibly wonder, her eyes glazing over in what I thought was tears or sadness. After a moment, she closed her eyes and shook her head, looking away.

"Don't call me that name. I don't want to hear that name again," she murmured almost inaudibly. "My name is Bella. Don't waste your time. No one can help me now." She walked to the wall and slid down until she was crouched in an uncomfortable position, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her forehead was laid across her knees and her shoulders were shaking beneath her blanket. Emmett was looking at her in a way that showed pity and slight disbelief. I was looking at her because something about her was drawing me in. Something was telling me that I needed to go to her, to protect her, to save her, no matter how greatly the impossibility of the situation stood.

"Please," I whispered to her, walking towards her before kneeling at her feet. It was getting stronger, this feeling of protectiveness. I wished to encase this girl in my arms, to tell it would be alright when I truly had no way of proving it to her. "We have to do something, anything. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

"_We'll _do it," Emmett reassured from above my shoulder. I noticed that he too was on his knees now, just inches taller than me in his crouch.

Bella lifted her head from her knees, her eyes wide and her lower lip trembling in the most expressive pout I had ever seen. It looked as if she had been biting her lip, hard. The skin had very nearly been severed. Tears ran down her face as she nodded her head shakily. Cautiously, I lifted my hand to her shoulder. She stilled for a moment but only shifted her gaze to mine. We didn't look away from each other as I pulled her in for a hug, the one thing that I had been having constant thoughts of ever since she had entered the room. Into my shoulder, she began telling me a tale that chilled my bones as her warm tears fell.

--

**BPOV**

Thinking back, I realized that I never realized that my big brother would come in the form of a grizzly-sized man.

I'd always wanted a sibling. But I had always thought that if Renee, my mother, would provide me with one, he would be older. I don't know I'd managed that in my head, but it seemed like a pretty nice thought. But still, I always thought that the brother would come in a package that looked more like me. The one I got…still resembled an attractive grizzly-bear. Looking at the curly-locked head that was bent down in front of me, removing the bandages from my ankles, I could honestly say that, though he still scared the hell out of me, I could trust him; for now. I suppose that was how you were supposed to feel about older brothers. You trust them enough not to murder you in your sleep, but you feared for your well-being either way.

Tears didn't flow nearly as thick as I thought they would when I told them my…story, if you could call it that without a shiver crawling up your spine. My eyes seemed to have dried out, finally running out of tears that I could cry for myself. The tears for my sisters though, those would never run out. In our sisterhood, we were allowed to feel sorry for ourselves for a time, but the pain we felt was collective. It was impossible to feel sorry for ourselves for long before we realized that there were others around us, all suffering from the same or worse punishments. We could gather around and compare our scars and bruises and decide whose were worst. And once that mystery was over, we would mourn with the sister and cry out our tears once again until our own wounds had scabbed over. It was a vicious cycle, but it was effective. It made us think about others before ourselves. It strengthened our bond.

As for looking at Edward (he had told me to call him that name, though I still felt more comfortable with Mr. Cullen), I tried my best to avoid it. He was…attractive, to say the least. Had I not been at the point where I hardly trusted his calming, promising words and his gentle, strong hands, I would have been completely taken with him. And he was down-playing himself now, trying his best to seem less intimidating. Too late, I thought to myself. He's already got me worried.

It wasn't that I didn't trust _him_ per se. It was really just the fact that, every time I looked at these two men, chills would run down my spine and I couldn't stop the adrenaline from spiking through my veins. There was a hit of it every time I saw Emmett's large, muscular hands or every time I saw Edward's strong jaw clench when I told them a particularly gruesome part of my memory. They reminded me of anger, the damage that those features could do to me.

_Too-warm hands were touching at my knees, pulling them apart no matter how hard I resisted…_

_Teeth gnawed at the skin on my neck and collarbone, painfully cutting into my skin…._

_Pain…so much pain…_

I would find myself in tears when these thoughts came up, the two men before me just waiting for the fury of my unknown reaction. I did my best to hold in the feelings, to keep these two from knowing that I wasn't crying over the girls that were in the other room, being taken against their wills. Shame clouded my mind when I accepted the fact that I was crying for myself, that I was pitying myself. My skin was still filthy. How could they not see the dirt crawling over my skin like corpse-eating maggots, crawling within the pores and reaching into my very veins?

I didn't like Emmett's hands on my legs. I think he could tell; he avoided touching my skin with his hands as much as possible, resorting to using cotton balls to rub in the unabsorbed ointments. He had seen me flinch just as he was about to pat my leg when he finished rubbing in the cream. He immediately put his hands at his sides and just nodded to me awkwardly. I had refused to keep on the bandages. If Victoria had seen them, if anyone had noticed, things would not end well.

Edward stood by, his hand only mere inches from my own. I never moved to grab it and he too didn't touch my skin (which made me very cautious of even being too close to him; did he see the dirt on my skin as well?). But it gave me some sort of sick relief, knowing that someone else was there, even if they were a complete and total stranger, and they cared enough to actually spend hours of their time with me. Even if the possibility of them actually being able to help was slim, at least I could see that their intentions were good.

Looking at the two men before me, I almost felt safe. There was still something about them, an air of testosterone and masculinity perhaps, which frightened me greatly. I couldn't stand thinking about their gender for too long without feeling a shiver race down my spine. The hair on my arms seemed to be on end constantly now.

"Bella?" Edward called quietly, his voice attempting a soothing air. It still made me shiver. "I'm honestly just curious but…what were you saying earlier about not being able to help us with our…relationship?" His brows were furrowed and for the fourth time this night, I felt heat flash across my cheeks. I shook my head as I stared at the ground, too embarrassed to actually say what I thought.

"I-it's nothing," I stumbled over my words. Internally, I cursed myself for not being able to keep a sharp tongue in front of these men.

"Bella," he whispered quietly, a calm that told me it was okay. It was strange. Why was his voice so smooth? His voice earlier had scared me, its attempt at perfect clarity and suave too similar to the men I had been with. Of course, it wasn't nearly the same. From what I allowed myself to remember, they never truly mastered it quite as well as he had. But that just proved to me that it was unsafe to trust him. Anyone who had the ability to manipulate their voice in such away must be an excellent liar. And liars couldn't be trusted. The girls were living proof of that.

I sighed and faced down, my cheeks still heated. Might as well surrender while I still have my dignity, I thought. "I…thought you two were…well, you know," I gestured awkwardly with my hands, putting my hands together. I was mumbling incoherently now, something about it not being right to drag me into a failing relationship. I wasn't a miracle worker. How the heck was I supposed to know how to help a gay couple with their relationship?

A booming laugh echoed through the room, making me jump in surprise. My head turned to see a red-faced Emmett hunched over the bed, his fist pounding into the sheets, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Seeing him hit the plush material so hard, his fist tight and the tendons showing through his beige skin, it frightened me. I tried not to show it but Edward's eyes were on me, his hand cautiously grabbing mine for support. I cringed slightly at the warmth of his touch, but didn't move away. Instead, I gripped hard and tried to stay in control. Edward glared at Emmett as I clenched a fist around his fingers.

"Shut _up_, Emmett," he hissed menacingly, his voice low. Burning prickled my eyes at the sound of his voice. It was too angry, too commanding. I tried to release my fist from Edward's fingers, but his fingers closed around mine just as my hand was about to escape his grasp. His eyes sought mine –though I had determinedly tried to avoid his gaze –and he frowned.

"No, no, Bella, I'm not mad at you," he assured comfortingly. I tried to nod but it came out as more of a tremble, the tears already bubbling over. He frowned again and tried to reach forward. I was hyper aware of his skin touching mine. I scooted back so he couldn't reach me. He was too close. I felt closed in between the bed and Edward, Emmett just barely sobering up. The frown on Edward's face grew even more pronounced as he turned toward Emmett.

"Emmett, please calm down, okay?" he requested calmly. I was still shaken up, but I tried my best to hide it. It didn't seem like I was making much of a difference. My muscles were clenched painfully tight and my teeth felt like they would break if they were put under anymore pressure. With my free hand, I wiped the remnants of tears from my eyes. No need to look weak in front of the strong.

Emmett was just getting over his chuckles, his face returning to its normal shading. As he calmed, he looked back towards me, not even seeming to notice my stiff state.

"So Bella," he chuckled, "Edward really made us both seem gay? I should have known he would make it look like my door swung that way." Edward blushed at this comment and looked away. I felt a bit of shock run through me. It seemed like such a…_human _reaction. It shouldn't have surprised me but the thought of these two men even being mortal just seemed ridiculous. It didn't seem real. I felt bad that Edward was fretting over this. Because honestly, Emmett was completely wrong.

"Actually Emmett," I said, my voice quiet yet sure (it was quite a surprise to me that I could actually keep my voice level), "I thought…_you_ were the one…you know…who was, um, gay?" All was quiet on the Emmett front. The air froze and I feared that I had spoken out and was going to be punished for it. Instead, I heard something muffled from next to me. I looked to Edward to see his mouth covered with his hand and his eyes closed tightly. He looked angry for a moment but then I realized what the sound was.

He snorted.

And once I seemed to figure that out, the chuckles that escaped his mouth reverberated past his hand and through the room. They grew louder as his face grew red from lack of oxygen and his eyes began tearing around the edges. His hands clutched his stomach as he fell back onto the carpeted floor, Emmett pouting like a child who had gotten refused candy.

"Shut it, Edward," Emmett muttered childishly, kicking his foot lightly at Edward's shin. Edward, who was rolling around the floor by now, just laughed harder. There was something in his face, a childish innocence that seemed to glow from his softened complexion, which made me smile. I began listening to his laughter and imagined him as a child, not at all dangerous, just young and mischievous as he played. It was a beautiful picture, full of purity and innocence that had me biting back a grin.

--

It was about five minutes before Edward had also returned to his normal shade of porcelain. By the time he was done, he had tears running down his eyes and his hair was mussed from rolling around on the floor. Emmett was still pouting on the edge of the bed and Edward was grinning at him like he had just won a contest.

"I can't wait till Alice hears this," he taunted. Emmett's eyes widened at the name. His head slowly began shaking back and forth as a look of horror spread across his face.

"No…you wouldn't," he stammered. Edward just smiled a malefic smile at him before he caught my confused eyes.

"Alice is our sister. We're adoptive siblings," he said with a nod. I nodded back, taking in this new information. They had a sister. I wondered how young she was. Was she my age? Was she happy and healthy and _free? _Did she have someone watching over her at all times, protecting her from the world's hidden dangers? Was she safe at this very moment when her brothers weren't watching over her like they were me, when they weren't there to assure her that she was safe? Were they wasting their time here, with me, when they could be with her?

"Speaking of Alice," Emmett trailed on. "Didn't Jasper used to be in the military? He was in the military police, remember?" Edward nodded, his face suddenly free of all humor. Instead, a look of determination had taken over.

"That's brilliant, Emmett," Edward murmured, pulling out a cell phone from his pocket. Emmett, looking smug, nodded and looked about ready to jump up from his seat on the bed. And I sat there, confused beyond belief, waiting for someone to explain what was happening because I sure as hell didn't know.

"Dammit," Edward cursed under his breath as he snapped his phone shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, a habit I noticed he took to whenever he was aggravated or stressed. When he collected himself, he looked to Emmett.

"We're going to have to tell him later. His phone is off," he sighed again. "But this can't wait. We'll have to call the police," and that was all I allowed myself to hear. As Edward picked his phone up to his ear, I knocked it out of his hand with a slap. Both Emmett and Edward's gazes shot to from the now-shut phone on the ground to my hand to my face, their eyes wide. I just tried to keep on a strong face and tried my damndest to keep from trembling in fear that they would find that I crossed the line. I gathered whatever false courage I had and cleared my throat.

"I won't allow you to call the police," my voice came out too soft or more requesting than demanding. But they needed to realize that the lives of the girls outside this room weren't the only ones in danger. Our blood was worth little now that it was tainted with the touch of monsters. But there were still those who were pure, those who still have lives to live.

"I don't understand," Edward said in a confused tone that backed up his question. I nodded to him.

"You don't understand a lot of things," I responded back. "If you call the police, we may get out alive," I spoke for the girls in this moment. We were a united front, "But that doesn't mean lives won't be lost. That's what I meant by the blood that will be spent in this business. The knowing survive while the unaware die. Why do you think I haven't run away?" I shook my head back and forth, trying to rid myself of the memory of Victoria waving the pictures of my mother and father in front of face, teasing me with the lives that she knew she held in her hand. "I owe these people nothing, nothing at all. But they own me because I was caught and they know that if they let me go, _they_ don't know that I won't say anything. So why risk it?"

"But what could they possibly hang over your head? What is more important than your life and the lives of those girls in there?" Emmett asked hotly, pointing in the direction of the still-vibrating bass that I had managed to ignore. I frowned at him.

"Our families," I growled, angry that he thought me to be selfish. "Every single person we care for, dead. This is huge; don't you understand that? It isn't only Victoria and Felix out there," I pointed to the door. "Those are just our chaperones. We don't even need them. We would never run away, not when we have people out there, risking their lives for us without even knowing it. But there are people more powerful than you'd ever know. They are the ones running this. They control everything, including whether our families will live or die. They have eyes everywhere, as well as followers. We're in their control. Every single person in this damn city is in their control," I began getting hysterical, my voice becoming high and uncontrolled. "The one who's throwing this party? He's nothing compared to what you're trying to face!" I found myself laughing at how impossible this entire situation was, how screwed I was in the end. I was going to die when I wasn't usable anymore. It was fucking hilarious. To think that I was so scared of these men when I should have been worrying about when I was going to die. I was sobbing by the end of my laughter, though I wasn't sure if it was because of the laughter or something more.

--

"What time is it?" I asked, breaking the silence in the room. After my episode, no one had spoken and the air was filled with tension.

Emmett looked at his watch, "One in the morning." I cursed beneath my breath and looked at my unwounded wrists and ankles and thighs. I guessed I could always hit them against something…

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, concern seeping through his tone.

"Do I look like I've just spent five hours with two customers at a sex party?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows at him. His jaw clenched as a hint of red spread across his cheeks and ears. I figured it was mainly because of anger. Speaking so casually about what was happening now wasn't right, even if I had come to a realization that I shouldn't fear this and should really be focusing on my end. I didn't mean to make him feel uncomfortable. I sighed and held out my arm. He stared at his questionably. I sighed again.

"Indian burn, please," I asked politely, hoping he would just get to work on leaving a red welt on my arm. Instead, he just gave me another confused look. Exasperated, I looked to Emmett in hope that he would just do as I asked only to find that he had the same expression as Edward.

"Jesus, you make this harder than pulling teeth," I muttered beneath my breath. Rather than waiting for them to make a move, I just grabbed my own wrist and began twisting, pulling at the skin until it burned and stung. I didn't stop until it looked like it would be permanently red and then continued with the other wrist and my ankles. The two men didn't stop me but I could feel their gazes burning holes in my sides as they continued giving me worried looks.

"Look," I said as I continued focusing on the burning, "if they don't see anything wrong with me when they check us over, they'll think I did something wrong. I'll get in more trouble. You can either keep standing there like a couple of idiots or one of you can help me out a bit and make it look like you ruffed me up a bit. Seriously, you don't even have to punch me unless you want to," I joked dryly. "Just mess up my hair or something. I only have a minute or two before I have to get outside of this room. You two won't be able to leave the room until we're gone. They'll know there's something wrong if you come out looking exactly like you did when we got here." They didn't do anything.

"Fine," I muttered, shaking my hair around a bit once I was finished with my now red ankles. I put the stupid heels back on and tried to stand, only to be held down by Edward's hand.

"Bella," he said quietly. His voice was calm but there was something else there. "Do you know if Victoria gives out business cards?"

**End chapter**

**Victoria's History:**

So, once upon a time, Victoria was one of the most beautiful girls in a poor little village in Hungary. She wanted riches and luxury in her miserable little life but that wouldn't happen in her village. She began learning English and learning of American customs because she knew that in the United States she would find what she was looking for. But one day, a man came into her village and said he was looking to recruit young girls of beauty to take to the states so that they could become models. Instantly, she agreed, knowing she would thrive with her new knowledge of the states and her beauty.

But when she got there, she realized what was going on. So she escaped (she had a magnificent sense of self-preservation). And then she returned, realizing what she could accomplish by remaining with these people that had tricked her. She could see by the number of girls and cohorts following commands of the leader, Aro, that this was a powerful alliance. So she bargained with Aro, telling him that she would be a valuable asset. Girls would trust her because she too was a woman, beautiful just like they were, and she knew their language. Aro too found her to be useful and decided to keep her as a recruiter for the girls in the Hungarian villages.

When new girls came, Victoria felt no pity for them. She was smart and strong and daring whereas they were not. She was able to protect herself from the men while these simple girls weren't. She was powerful, too.

**A/N: **So that was Victoria's history. I know most of you will probably still hate her but I can't really change that. It's already been imbedded within you all to hate Victoria. Oooh, I forgot to mention. I'll be posting a Human Trafficking playlist soon (as soon as I can get my HT playlist copied from my laptop to my home computer). I've already got several songs that were kind of fitting for the chapters. Well, hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. I hope the ending didn't throw you all off. If you _are _confused, you'll find out more in the next chapter.

Oh, all the time lapses were there for a reason. King paid for five hours with the girls. I wasn't about to do commentary on every single second. (This is a pretty freakin' long chapter either way.)

And somebody complained about my ANs again! I honestly considered just quitting them completely but decided that I don't really care what you think about my notes. If you **don't like them, don't read them**. Author's Notes are my way of getting the stress off my mind from writing the chapter. It's kind of like venting after you have a huge argument with a person you hate that you knew you should have won if the other person hadn't played dirty (because you _know _you play fair _all _the time).

Whatever. PLEASE **REVIEW!!!!**

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! PLEASE DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight or its characters. Stephenie Meyer owns all.

_Previously on Human Trafficking:_

"_Seriously, you don't even have to punch me unless you want to," I joked dryly. "Just mess up my hair or something. I only have a minute or two before I have to get outside of this room. You two won't be able to leave the room until we're gone. They'll know there's something wrong if you come out looking exactly like you did when we got here." They didn't do anything._

"_Fine," I muttered, shaking my hair around a bit once I was finished with my now red ankles. I put the stupid heels back on and tried to stand, only to be held down by Edward's hand._

"_Bella," he said quietly. His voice was calm but there was something else there. "Do you know if Victoria gives out business cards?"_

_Presently:_

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 11: UNEXPECTED**

**BPOV**

"Hoz a gyerekek," said Victoria as she came into the room, never once turning to look at the girls that were sitting on their beds treating the welts that we received from the job. Katea had been looking at my wrists and ankles, comparing them to her own. Mine were worse; I had done a good job recreating the injuries. However, when Victoria spoke her head shot up, eyes wide with a look I could only describe as shock and fear. My eyes followed her gaze until I saw people coming through the door. I swallowed back the bile that came up my throat.

Children, young children ranging from ages six to maybe fourteen, came walking into the room, their heads down, the younger ones crying while the older children looked after them and huddled them in between each other. Boys and girls.

I looked at Katea only to see she was still transfixed by the children entering the room. The other girls were looking on as well, shock evident on their faces. And then came an uprising.

"Ön beteg, sodrott Elinor!" screamed Rosalie, running at Victoria with all her might. She knocked her to the ground and began clawing at her face, Victoria trying to make a grab at Rosalie's pulled up hair. The other girls didn't try and stop her. Instead, they ran to the children and pulled them closer to our group, some trying to speak to them while others just tried to comfort. The youngest seemed more ready to take the hands of the girls. The older children were wary, eying the hands that reached for them with uncertainty.

The scuffle didn't last long. Felix had grabbed Rosalie and was holding her back tightly around the waist as she kicked and clawed, trying to get back to Victoria who was standing up shakily from her place on the floor, panting and bruised.

Victoria got closer to the struggling Rosalie until she was standing right before her, Rosalie still nearly a head above her because of the height given by Felix's hold.

"Ehhez ismét, és ön meghalt," Victoria growled at Rosalie. She lifted her hand and backhanded Rosalie across the face. Rosalie's head was tossed to the side and when it turned back, a long red gash was cut across her cheek. I hadn't noticed the thing ring on Victoria's finger.

"Elég a pokol," Rosalie whispered just before spitting directly in Victoria's face.

* * *

_Hoz a gyerekek _- **Bring in the children.**

_Ön beteg, sodrott Elinor_ _- _**You sick, twisted bitch!**

_Ehhez ismét, és ön meghalt_ - **Do that again and you are dead.**

_Elég a pokol_ - **Burn in hell.**

* * *

--

The night had ended badly for Rosalie. The welts across her torso were long and would be slow to heal. As I applied a topical cream to it with a towel as she began to doze, I thought of what had happened earlier in the morning.

Edward and Emmett...silly and naïve and much too young in my opinion. They had no idea what they had tried to get into, no idea what they would face if they tried to intervene with my fate. That was why I never answered Edward's curious question when I left. That was why I told them nothing more that could save me. I would not be responsible for more lives. As far as I knew, they wouldn't be part of this any longer.

The children were asleep, some taking refuge with the other girls, some sleeping in separate bunks. Many of them weren't Hungarian at all but they seemed to take comfort in the words of the girls just as well. There was one girl who spoke English within the group and she turned out to be American like me. Her head was rested on my lap, her bronze curls falling across my thigh. She was only seven years old and she couldn't even remember her name. I hadn't figured out why.

I ran my hand through her hair, curious as to how she came to this, how she had become entangled in this web. So young and having to be so brave; I wondered if she had realized how much was wrong with all of this or if her mind was blocking out everything and only focusing on those who could give her comfort.

We weren't being guarded by the men or Victoria. I shuddered; James hadn't come back to see me and I was perfectly fine with that. As far as I knew, he wouldn't be back for several more days. The longer he was away, the better it was for me.

The warehouse was quiet and cold, the metal walls sending any sounds back at us. Nearly everyone was asleep, huddled close together for warmth. The children came in equal numbers to the girls and I. The beds were crowded and only just large enough to share between one woman and one child. The older children avoided contact for the most part. There was one boy and girl, brother and sister from what I could tell, whom were connecting best with a girl named Aranka.

I didn't make any sound. The silence was startling yet soothing. The night that had passed had left me feeling deaf and tired and worried. There was just so much to worry about. My fingers curled in the hair of the girl that lay across my lap. There was so much to worry about.

--

**EPOV**

"Emmett, stay on their tail, alright? Call me when you find their location." I flipped my phone shut and slammed it sat it back on the bar. The plastic would have cracked it I had put any more pressure on it. The doorbell rang.

"Hey Edward, let me in!" Jasper called through the door. He was the only one who actually asked for permission to enter my apartment anymore. I threw the door open to see a curious looking Jasper standing there, his head tilted to the side, her brow raised.

"What's with the anger? What'd Emmett do, break your keyboard?" I ignored him and pulled him in through the open door before slamming it shut again.

"Hey, seriously Edward, what's the problem?" He looked like he was trying to calm me down but I was too wired up. My blood was pulsing too fast beneath my skin.

"Jasper, what do you know about human trafficking?"

His curious expression disappeared into a mixture of shock, disgust, and possibly a hint of curiosity as to what I was getting to. He shook his head momentarily and then spoke.

"Not much, personally. The smuggling of humans for slave labor, sexual exploitation, or otherwise....what are you getting at Edward? Alice has been worried sick. You know she had another vision last night that she couldn't understand. She wouldn't even tell me about it. Said it was private and she wouldn't say anything."

"Jasper...I need your help. There's a situation..." He looked worried momentarily but then he grinned unconvincingly.

"You're joshing me, right? You and Emmett are playing a prank? Nice try; come on out Emmett!" He called again but I shook my head. How desperately I wished this was a joke.

"Jasper, come here," I brought him closer to the laptop that sat on my countertop. On the screen was a blown up picture of a brown haired girl, her eyes shining in rich pools of chocolate, her young, pale heart shaped face gracing a smile with full pink lips. Jasper looked at it curiously before turning back to me, obviously confused.

"That's Isabella Swan, the girl who went missing in New York a couple weeks ago. That picture was from her high school yearbook, senior year. This," I said, clicking another tab on the internet server, "is her from this morning." Jasper gasped.

The blown up picture on the screen was a photograph of a woman with long dark brown hair and equally deep chocolate brown eyes, her pale heart shaped face bruised and marked with shadows, her lower lip cut and a broken expression peering from beneath her lashes. She had been unaware of me taking the picture from my phone at the time.

"How did – what – Edward, what's going on?" he stuttered, looking aghast. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to rid myself of the headache I had taken up in the past few hours.

"Jasper...there's trafficking here in Chicago."

--

**James POV**

There was something wrong; I could _feel _it on the back of my neck. I tried to ignore it best I could but it was always just _there_. I didn't head back to the warehouse until it around midday. Whoever was out there, watching me, was sure to be gone now. They couldn't have tracked me down.

They had brought in the new shipment of kids from Europe and Asia. We'd been getting so much good business here in Chicago and New York that Aro had decided to give us more of an edge: children. The fucking chesters that were walking around in the big cities disguised as caring fathers and brothers were really just a bunch of pedophiles waiting for their opportunity to grab a kid and take them. Well, it was no skin off my nose.

When I got inside, all I saw was the girl I was looking for, Isabella. She was sitting up on her bed, her head falling back against the metal frame as she slept. The girl in her lap was cuddling closer to her. I didn't like that. Isabella was _mine._

I reached her bed as quietly as I could. The others were all asleep from what I could tell. I leaned up on her bunk and let my hand trail up her neck until it rested in her hair. As soon as my fingers tightened in the strands, her eyes shot open and she gasped.

"Time to play Isabella..."

Yes, we'd have fun.

--

**A/N: **Sorry guys, I needed to end the chapter (I know its short). I'll try and update soon but with another AP exam on Wednesday, I'm going to be cramming. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. As you can see, Bella's fear isn't going to just go away because she had a revelation. Her body is already scared and it takes a hell of a lot to get over instincts. And I brought in a major key in human trafficking: **children**.

Sorry if I made any of you sick with that. Honestly, I didn't intend to but that's how this goes. I'm not leaving anything out. By the way, did you all foresee anything with this chapter? Anything? Maybe not....but you will!

Anyhoo, please **review**. Hope you all took _something _out of this chapter!

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	12. Take a Look Into the Light

Looks like I'm still alive, huh? Well, yeah, I kind of wish I wasn't right now.

Yeah, I know. I'm a crap author and I don't really deserve to be able to have all you guys around as my readers. Trust me, I get that. I feel like shit as it is. No need to rub it in quite this minute. But I will explain myself for my own petty reasons. Couple of weeks ago –sometime after school ended– my computer wouldn't let me use the word processor because of a virus. Then I had to reformat my computer. Well, I didn't have a back up for writing so things went downhill. But I got back my word processor a couple of weeks ago.

So why the hell haven't I updated, right?

This is one of those it's-not-you-its-me moments. I just lost focus and my thought process went to hell. I kind of got lost in my own head. Ideas were still running but I just couldn't sit down and put them on the screen. Even my mom got mad at me. I've been distant and just hiding away in my room and not really talking or being expressive. And after giving me a good talking to, I sort of saw something. Like a weird epiphany that came way too late.

Normalcy has never been my forte. Trying to be normal is hard for me because I can tell that I'm not normal. If I was, I would care more for peer pressure and adulthood and hormones. But my entire family isn't normal. We know that. We're weird and we like ourselves that way. But I was getting away from that because of something I realized in myself and I just couldn't figure out what was bothering me so much. All that time meditating was wasted because I was pondering things I already knew and over-analyzing things that had already been pushed to the max. That's one of my problems. I overanalyze things.

Anyway, the point is, I'm back. And I'll be doing my damndest to make sure I stick to some sort of writing schedule. I understand if you all want to just quit reading. I'm probably such a bore now. Feel free to curse me out or whatever. If I couldn't even figure out what my thoughts were, I deserve that. As much as I would have liked to lie to you all and said I had been in a coma, been killed in a hit-and-run ice cream truck accident, or had been pushed into a drug–induced vegetative state, I can't do it. You all have been the best and I swear that I'll earn back your respect. I've begun writing again and the chapters are well on their way.

Indebted to you all,

Laura a.k.a Sovoyita

P.S. Voodoo dolls are in season. My picture is on my account. Feel free to jab pointy needles into my joints to speed up the writing process. Just watch the hands. I need those.

And thanks to people who have emailing me like crazy to get me to keep writing. I appreciate the support and hope you all haven't given up on me.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: **This chapter is relatively short and it is pretty pointless. But its giving me plenty of leeway for the next chapter. I needed one that kept the mood and meaning but didn't have much action. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Twilight saga or its characters.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 12: IRREVERSIBLE AND UNCONTROLLABLE COMMITMENTS**

**EPOV**

With my head in my hands, I sighed angrily, nearly growling as Jasper tried to reason –an admirable feat on his part seeing as I was nowhere near as calm as I had been I confronted him in the first place.

"If we call the police, they will contact the right people and get the job done. There's no need to get any more involved in this than we already are."

_You're wrong, _I wanted to shout. _It's already too late. We're already stuck._

Of course, pessimism wouldn't help at this point. Any sane person would have easily assumed that I was upset about the mud that I had unknowingly gotten myself stuck in. That's how normal people think. That's how it's supposed to be. Apparently, I lost my brain while inhaling cigarette smoke, exposing my eyes to flashing lights and listening to a techno/pop mix.

Boredom and content had ruled my life to this point. Things that I might have found challenging previously now seemed dull and lacking the dazzling glow that was supposed to shine around the life of someone who was successful and happy. Maybe I hadn't noticed it before –such is the nature of a selfish human, after all– but now that I had seen true misery and pain and hate and fear in the eyes of someone other than myself, I could clearly see that marring scar penetrating the glow that was now much more visible around me. And it infuriated me as much as it humbled me.

I couldn't ignore what had happened, no matter whether it truly involved me or not. From this point on, I was going to thrust myself into this. Never mind the consequences or the possibility that I was biting off more than I could chew. If only I could get Jasper to understand this.

"So you want to risk the lives of all those girls and their families just because you're too lazy to help me find out who will actually be _helpful _in this situation? Is that it, Jasper?" I knew I'd gotten him caught in my well-placed trap. Jasper hated being put down in any manner. He'd gained that peeve from all his time in the military. As a soldier, you were never allowed to be lazy or to do anything less than the best. And Jasper _always _held himself to that standard.

Jasper's eyes narrowed and his mouth set into a thin line.

"I didn't say that, Edward. I'm just saying that if we didn't just rush in to help like a couple of rebels in a mine field, we might actually accomplish something other than getting ourselves trapped into a corner," Jasper said, restrained anger keeping his voice low.

"I get that Jasper, I really do. But we can't call the police. If we called and someone found out, we'd be in huge trouble. King's got the town wrapped around his finger. He knows everything." I internally groaned. I'd lose my job over this for sure.

Jasper didn't speak and I decided to keep my head down. My neck ached from the stress of the day and I had yet to actually sleep. Emmett on the other hand had found refuge on my couch and was now snoring loudly –his mouth wide open– and comfortably after his three-hour long tailing of a suspicious looking black van that led him to a series of rentable storage houses. Strangely enough, the place wasn't as hidden as we had expected. But all doubts were cleared when Emmett described a man walking into the warehouse; coincidentally the same man that had been next to the red-headed woman at King's party. That was proof enough that we had been following the right people. We could step in if need be.

Suddenly, Jasper jumped up. His seat nearly fell over from the force that he used when he stood. He shot toward his cell phone (which laid, having been haphazardly thrown, on the counter) and began clicking buttons at an alarming speed. This was saying something seeing as Jasper absolutely loathed cell phones. In his mind, handheld radios with satellite and radio transmitters were still something to be considered modern and, by all means, preferred. It was something about never worrying about losing your cellular signal and never having to be lost. It made no sense to me.

"I can't believe I didn't think of him before," Jasper mumbled, his brows furrowed. His fingers fumbled and he sighed angrily, growling. He tossed his phone to me. I looked from the phone back to him questioningly.

He sighed again. I'd never seen Jasper have to calm _himself _down before. It wasn't reassuring.

"Look up Peter. We're going to call in a favor."

**BPOV**

If I was being honest, I'd felt worse physical pain. Broken bones and numerous concussions normally resulted in pain. I could handle it. The burn beneath my skin was nothing to what I'd felt before.

But my physical maladies weren't exactly the problem right now. However, my pride had taken a pretty awful beating. And my dignity. And what little self esteem I had was definitely gone now.

Turns out that I had lied, to myself and the temporary pain-relievers (A.K.A Edward and Emmett) about being strong enough to handle what would happen to me. I wasn't strong enough. Because as far as I knew, I had cried and screamed and whimpered when I had been held down in that bed with nothing but shame to keep me from biting my tongue so hard that I would bleed out on the bed. After all, it would be pretty shameful of me to leave my comrades and the children just because I was desired by one of our captors. Boo hoo for me. I'd never been a good liar anyway.

All this proved was that I wasn't worth shit now. Fine, I could work with that. I hadn't ever really seen myself as a patriarch of purpose, anyway. I was just Bella. Now I was less than Bella. I was me. It was harder than I'd thought it'd be to accept that. But I would.

For something that was worth shit, I sure did feel like it. Puking into the toilet bowl wasn't pleasant, especially since it wasn't really a toilet as much as it was a Rent-A-Can. Wherever we were, there weren't good showers here like there were in New York. What we had were stalls made up of plastic curtains and thin metal pipes that connected to a water supply that we couldn't see. It wasn't much and the water wasn't warm but it was distracting when you didn't want to think about what was going on around you. I didn't even want to think so it worked out. But I still couldn't get clean.

My stomach clenched and forced whatever it could up my throat and out. It angered me that I couldn't focus on any one thing. I couldn't even focus on the burn. My head was spinning too much.

Someone came and held my hair out of my face. I didn't turn but I could tell by the length of the nails and the smoothness of the hands that it was Rosalie. Her hands were tough but smooth, calloused so perfectly that you couldn't tell until you actually saw the scars across her palms and fingers. Her family had owned a small farm and her father had worked on cars, she had said. She was good with her hands and had learned everything she knew from her father. She regretted a lot.

I turned away and wiped my mouth as best I could. My mouth tasted disgusting and I just wanted to rinse it out. Rosalie pulled me away from the seat and took me to a plastic sink. That too was portable and looked like it had been used beyond its lifetime. She turned on the metal faucet that had rust all over it and let me cup the water in my hands to gargle. Afterwards, I still felt disgusting but it was better than nothing.

"The sickness will stop soon, once your body gets used to it. The pills they give us aren't always this harsh but sometimes, they are painful." Her hand went to her stomach as she gave it a small, unconscious rub. I, however, understood.

"They've been giving us the Morning After Pill." She sighed with a wince and nodded. Her hair was pulled back now. The bruises across her face were covered up now with the make up the girls were given to make themselves presentable to the men. Most of the women didn't like using it –a sort of tribute to the life they had before they had been thrown into adulthood– but some couldn't stand the sight of shadowed hands across their flesh. I couldn't either.

"And long-term contraception. A higher dosage than is safe, I presume. They want to ensure that we don't have a child, no matter what," she said, her words short and curt. "I'm Catholic. Contraception is against my religion. I'm killing my children over and over again. It's sick." I nodded but didn't really agree. I didn't want to have a stranger's child. But I wasn't sure if my opinion would be the same if I was pregnant or ever had been. I wasn't sure of a lot of things anymore.

"How's Vanessa?" I asked suddenly, my thoughts drifting to the bronze-curled child in my bunk. Rosalie looked at me questionably. "You've named her?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to call her 'Girl', Rose." Rosalie smiled and grabbed my hand, leading me back to the bed. I think she liked my sarcasm. It gave us something to laugh at later, especially since most of the other girls didn't understand it. It made us closer even though Rosalie still resented me for being here. I still didn't know why and I didn't ask.

"She's been sleeping. No nightmares, no crying, just peaceful sleep. The other children aren't so lucky. She's special and so are you. She likes you the most." I shook my head.

"She probably only likes me because the other children were herded to the other girls. She's probably just shy," I reasoned. When we reached the bunks, my hand drifted to the curls that were draped across the thin sheets. Rosalie was right. Her face was perfectly calm and relaxed, her eyes just moving behind the lids as an empty sleep took her over. Rosalie nudged me.

"Children do not sleep like that unless they feel safe. You are lucky. She feels safe with you. Perhaps you remind her of a mother." I shook my head again.

"Motherhood constitutes some sort of commitment, doesn't it?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you unwilling to protect this child or are you afraid of commitment?" I shook my head, eyes back on a sleeping face.

"I never said I wouldn't protect her."

**A/N: **As you can probably see, Bella's attitude probably reminds you more of Jacob's in this chapter. It's my way of making her freer in her feelings towards bad things. You can't exactly repress bad things when they are being repeatedly forced upon you. So she's resorting to other methods. She's not being herself right now.

That's it for now. I'll update again soon. Promise. Please review. I'm tired.

Sovoyita

**Authors are friends, not food! Don't flame them (and eat them). That, children, is known as cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies.**


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: **I would totally apologize if I knew it would help. But I don't think it will, so I won't apologize. Plus, I haven't much to apologize over. School's killer and I'm a senior so it's even worse. I'm busy. But I pushed myself to write this and I love it. This chapter is amazing to me. It just seems so….I don't know. This was the chapter I was looking forward to even if I tried to lie to myself by saying I wasn't going to be happy by finishing it. The horrible thing is, the BPOV in this chapter is my favorite. I can't help it. It just is. Anyway, hope you enjoy it in that sickeningly sad way.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Twilight and the characters, I'd be so stoked. But since I'm just a tired high school student with little spare time, all I can claim is this story's plot, not the actual characters or the original story. How depressing.

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 13: TIME **

**EPOV**

Cold; that was really the only way to describe the room when I had first entered. Detached and expressionless, silver and black covered most of the office. The room seemed to portray the expression on the face of the man behind the black desk when we came in. That is, until he focused in on Jasper and smiled so kindly that I wondered errantly whether he was related to Carlisle, my adoptive father. He certainly would have passed as his son with his light blond hair and kind yet authoritative blue eyes.

"Jasper, it's been too long," Peter said quietly, pulling Jasper into a brotherly hug and patting him roughly on the shoulder. Jasper winced in pain but did the same without much thought. His arm and shoulder were both ligaments that had suffered permanent damage during his time in the armed services. Scars littered his body from the sharp scraps of shrapnel that had been launched from a suicide bomber's explosives. He had been lucky in the unluckiest of missions. He never talked about what happened, but I could see why. Painful memories must have surrounded Iraq nowadays.

"Same here, Peter," Jasper said. "Unfortunately, this isn't exactly a personal visit." Peter nodded, the smile slipping away into the blank, unemotional stare that he had sported when we had first opened the door.

Jasper stood straighter when he spoke, his arms directly at his side and never wavering from there position against the seams of his khaki pants. The loose fists his hands fell into were awkward, the pads of his thumbs sitting on the forefingers. I vaguely wondered why he stood that way. Jasper spoke quickly, emotionlessly, as if he was completely detached and had been reading from a script.

"Illegal trafficking has been detected in Chicago. Their present headquarters has been found but the police have been infiltrated. There is no chance that they will be able to assist. We have two witnesses of the trafficking, both willing to give their testament to having seen this." When he was done, his shoulders relaxed and his fingers fell from their positions.

Peter looked aware and intrigued, perhaps even a bit angry. His expression became calculating when he stared at me. He nodded his head in my direction and Jasper nodded back.

"Name?" he asked.

"Edward Cullen," I responded.

"What exactly was it that you witnessed that makes you think this was trafficking?" I sighed and thought back.

"King had hired girls to _entertain_ the men, or so he said. They had bruises around their legs and arms, a few had them along their face. They didn't look willing when the men started pulling them from the group. Then we talked to one…" Peter lowered his head slightly, his fingers entwined within each other as his forehead leaned on his erect forefingers.

"Who is 'we'? Were you not alone?"

"I was with my brother, Emmett." He nodded for me to continue.

"Bella was adamant about not telling us everything but there were enough slips that gave up a good portion of the information. She's from New York City and—" Peter cut me off with a stern look.

"You don't sound detached at all from this situation," he said accusingly. "Why do you care so much about this girl? Your attention didn't stay on the other girls for very long." I held back a growl. If he was getting at what I thought he was getting at, I was going to leave and deal with this myself. Like hell I'd be accused of something as disgusting as this.

"She's been missing for two _weeks_, her family has had no idea where she's been and she's only with those _monsters_ because her family's well-being was threatened if she didn't go along with what they were doing," I hissed. "I talked to her, listened to what she had to say, and then promised I would help her. Of course I care about her first and foremost. I wouldn't be human if I didn't."

Peter took on a wistful expression, his eyes closed and his lips pulled up into a small smile, a smile of memories.

"You know," he said in a quiet, breathy voice. "This reminds me vaguely of when I first met Charlotte. She was a reporter from Germany who was in Iraq and had been taken hostage. Girl thought she was tough enough to take on two armed men. She almost made it too but unfortunately, her thunder was stolen when I came into the picture and took out the guys. She was so angry at me and we ended up fighting all the way back to base. Bravest girl I ever met; taking on various men, all armed with military grade rifles, takes some nerve." He looked at me.

"I'll help. But this has got to be done the right way." He gave me a hard stare that I returned. "If I find out that you are trying to make yourself a nuisance by pulling any stupid stunts like going in and saving her yourself, I won't hesitate to shoot you in the leg. This isn't high school and you aren't some tough guy saving a girl from a rough situation, you got that? I won't risk this being jeopardized for your attraction." I bit my tongue and nodded. My desire to just go up to him and push his head down and crush it into his metallic desk was thick. He seemed to have this stupid idea that I had no idea how to protect myself and someone else. I'd been through enough self-defense, martial arts, and various other fighting classes to know how to keep myself safe. I had promised Bella I would help. I wouldn't break the promise. But if I jeopardized this rescue mission thing Peter was trying to pull off, then I would do my best not to get in the way. However, I definitely wouldn't take lightly to being called a liability.

"So," he looked to Jasper with a smirk on his face. "Ready to put your skills to work, soldier?" Jasper grinned back before pulling a sheet of paper from the printer on Peter's desk and grabbing the pen Peter had held out for him.

"You know," Jasper murmured through his lips, his focus mainly on the paper before him, circles and lines being drawn in quickly. "I didn't think I'd ever get a chance plan another mission. I wonder what Alice would think of it…"

Peter laughed. "I know what Charlotte would think. She'd be wondering if she could help out. Lord knows she hasn't written a story as exciting as the one she wrote after Iraq." I just sat there and watched as plans unfolded, internally hoping that this wouldn't take too long. The FBI may have been on our side now, seeing as Peter was the boss and could make these sorts of decisions without looking to someone else, but time was of the essence. There was so little of it now and I didn't want to imagine what Bella was dealing with now. Every time my eyes closed, a picture appeared behind each of my eyelids. One was of the Bella I had seen from her high school yearbook, the one where she had been smiling and her eyes had held all the mystery of why she looked amused rather than happy. The other was a permanent reminder that I couldn't ever change time and meet Bella under better circumstances.

--

**BPOV**

The young children were crying, the girls were pulling them into hugs and I was panicking behind a blank face.

"Who did it?!" Victoria screamed, her claw-like hands fisted tightly. Behind her anger, I could see the hysteria, the fear that she held for her own safety.

Felix was calm as he leaned against one of the bunks, a small frown on his lips as he watched Victoria's erratic behavior. "Calm down, Victoria. It was probably just some obsessed client again. You know how some of them get once they have a taste of what we've got to offer." He smirked at the girls before his eyes landed on me, drifting up and down. I didn't like Felix but I was reminded of Emmett when I looked at him. He always had this hint of humor in his eyes. Plus, he was similar to Emmett in the sense that he found teasing me quite the pastime. But the differences far outranged the similarities. I couldn't imagine Emmett staring at my chest like Felix was. I blushed despite myself and glared at his cocky grin.

"Someone _found _us," she screeched. "One of them told someone where we were! They must have found out during one of the drives." She glared at us all and started walking in front of us, her heels clacking loudly.

"Who. Was. It?" she growled, looking from one end of the line to the other. Then her hate-widened eyes fell on me and I could tell there would be no reasoning with her. She walked up to me quickly, grabbed my neck in a piercing grip that cut off my windpipe and tried to _crush it_. I choked and made sputtering sounds as I clawed at her arm but she wasn't having that. With her other hand, she pulled at my hair and forced me onto my knees.

"It was you, wasn't it? Wasn't it?!" I shook my head and tried to breathe but it was impossible. Tears clouded my eyes as I fought off the fear that grasped me. I didn't want to live anyway. Surely this was more honorable a death than suicide. But just as I was about to accept that I could die this way, a tiny, perfectly high-pitched voice that was musical even in its choked tone echoed through the warehouse that housed us.

"Mommy! I want Mommy!" My eyes shot open from their unknowingly closed position and they searched for the source of the voice. Beautiful brown eyes met my own, round and glassy with tears, bronze curls falling into her face as she struggled against Rosalie's arms to reach me. I wanted to scream, to tell Rosalie to make her look away so she wouldn't see this. She was innocent. She couldn't see this. It was so wrong.

"Victoria, what is the meaning behind killing one of the girls?" Victoria gasped and loosened her grip only enough to allow me a chance to breath. I gulped up the oxygen, choking on it. Saliva filled my mouth and tears filled my eyes until I felt so overwhelmed that I sobbed loudly.

"She-she told someone where to find us, Aro! She was trying to give us away! She can't be allowed to live for such a thing," she pleaded, her hand tightening when my throat convulsed against her palm.

"I believe the American phrase is "innocent until proven guilty", Victoria. We best follow them if we are to survive in this country for very long," Aro said in that dark, airy tone he always spoke in. He looked at me, his figure blurred as I tried to clear my eyes of the tears that had formed by blinking them away. "Now, why don't we assure ourselves that Isabella is the culprit before we kill her? After all, there's no reason to kill her when she has already adopted a daughter." Victoria growled lowly and nodded.

"Up you bitch," she growled, pulling me to my feet by the hair. I winced but she took no notice as she dragged me to Aro and Caius, the latter frowning in disgust as I neared him.

"Now, Isabella," Aro cooed lightly, "did you tell anyone where to find us, anyone at all?" I shook my head only to be slapped across the face by a thin, bony hand. Caius hissed, "Answer _out loud_ when questioned, wench."

Aro didn't take his eyes off of me when he spoke. "Now, now, Caius. Answers can be found without such violence. Where are your manners?" he teased lightly, his voice showing his humor in its lightness. "Isabella, please state your answer out loud." I felt like a child that was being reprimanded when Aro spoke to me. I preferred Caius' harsh treatment over it. At least then I could hate him for the pain rather than the humiliation.

"No, I didn't tell anyone," I answered quietly in my now-coarse voice, glad he hadn't asked a broader question. I wouldn't have been able to lie to him if he had asked if I had told anyone what was going on.

Aro hummed lightly in his throat as he looked at me thoroughly, his eyes searching my eyes closely as he grasped my hand, as if he expected answers to come.

"I cannot seem to be sure if she is telling the truth. There seems to be more to the story than is being told," Aro murmured. "Maybe an incentive to get her to tell us everything would be useful. Victoria, bring forward her daughter." My eyes widened as I saw Victoria struggle to pull little Vanessa away from Rosalie. What hurt even more was that Vanessa didn't fight Victoria at all. Instead, she just looked at me eagerly, as if she was getting just what she wanted by being dragged closer to me.

"No, no, please don't!" I begged. "I'll tell you anything you want. Just don't hurt her!" Aro shook his head. "We need to be sure that you have spoken of everything. Love is always the best incentive, isn't it?" He smiled. I pleaded him but as soon as Vanessa was in his range of contact, he pulled her to him and passed her to Caius.

"Take them both to the back room and get all the information. We cannot risk being discovered." And then another voice came through.

"Megmondtam neki őket hova talál minket de ők didn't követ az én -m oktatás illően," Katea yelled. "ÉN visszautasít -hoz él mint ez többé."

"What has she said, Victoria?" Aro asked curiously. Victoria just stared in shock at her. "Victoria!" Aro called impatiently.

"She's…she's admitted to it," she stuttered.

"Admitted to what?"

"She says that she was the one who told…" Aro's eyes widened in surprise. I turned to Katea and looked at her like she was insane and shook my head, my face showing my horror at what she was doing. She just remained blank but I saw her left eye wink quickly at me, telling me it was going to be alright. But there was something wrong. There was something she wasn't warning me about and she knew it. This wasn't going to end well. I could feel it.

"Ön megenged -hoz beszélő -ból -unk elhelyezés -hoz valaki?," Victoria questioned aloud and to which Katea nodded. "Stupid girl," Victoria growled. "Honor and integrity will only get you killed." She nodded to Caius who was holding something shiny and silver in his hand. I couldn't see it until his sleeve shifted when he raised his arm. It was like a slow motion scene playing out before my eyes. A shining silver gun was revealed and when Caius' finger pulled back, the trigger followed along. The body of the gun shuddered as a tiny bullet was expelled from the gun. The grim sadness in Katea's eyes shone when she stared at nothing in particular as the bullet pushed its way through her chest cavity and blood seeped through her skin as she fell to the floor. She wasn't wearing enough that the blood could seep through her clothes so it simply rolled off her skin and onto the concrete.

**

* * *

**

**Hungarian Translations:**

Megmondtam neki őket hova talál minket de ők didn't követ az én -m oktatás illően. ÉN visszautasít -hoz él mint ez többé** =I told them where to find us but they didn't follow my instructions properly. I refuse to live like this any longer. **

Ön megenged -hoz beszélő -ból -unk elhelyezés -hoz valaki? = **You admit to speaking of our location to someone?**

* * *

I grabbed Vanessa and held her to my chest as she cried and mumbled, "Mommy." Rosalie and the other girls and children were screaming and crying but I didn't cry any longer. I saw what Katea had done and what she had gifted me with. Time was of the essence and she had just given me more. I stood with Vanessa in my arms, the weight not bothering me as much as it probably should have. It felt comforting to hold her tightly, to know that she was still here with me, her heart beating against mine.

"I expect double the work from you, Isabella," Aro said quietly as he watched Felix walk over to Katea. I didn't respond. Vanessa was drifting in my arms as the smell of rust, salt and tears made me sick and made me mourn with empty eyes. I had time.

**A/N: **This chapter didn't write itself but it made me think. I'm such a drama freak when it comes to writing. I'll miss my imaginary character, Katea. She was nice.

Oh, good people, I wrote a story some time ago called **Two Minutes to End, Two Minutes to Begin**. Sadly, it wasn't at all popular. But then I wrote a second chapter to it. I loved it. But I accidentally deleted the entire story when posting the second part to it so the reviews that had once been there are now gone. No one has reviewed the second part either. –pouts- Would anyone be willing to read it? I actually really do love it but no one has taken the time to look it over….I'm sad! –wails- Please….?

Oh, and please read the story **I am now betareading**. It's called **Existentialism **by** MonSangEstMonEncre**. She's one of the best authors on this site but people always seem to skip over her stories. I want you all to read it. It's amazingly good. She's so much better than me.

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! PLEASE DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


	15. Chapter 14

**READ MY A/N FIRST, DAMN YOU!!!! *giggles***

**A/N: **Happy anniversary, honey! _-gets backhanded by angry readers- _Ow…okay, that didn't go as expected _–rubs cheek-_ I know, I know, you guys are angry. But this is the **one year (and 3 weeks)** mark of _**Human Trafficking**_ so I thought I'd start off the New Year with a bang…literally. So, as a present to all my lovely readers who have grudgingly stuck with me for this long all through the horrible updating and the unedited chapters and the blood and the sweat and the blistered fingertips and bleary eyes and the stupid sticky keys that never seem to _want to unstick_, I wanted to express my gratitude and love to you all. So, this chapter is one of the longest and it is the most action-filled chapter that will probably ever pop up in this story. So much is happening in this chapter that I got lazy and decided that putting in POVs is stupid. The little (--) marks will be the sign that shows that we are alternating POVs. It'll only be Bella and Edward's POVs (sorry for those who are easily annoyed by alternating POVs; third person doesn't fit in this particular chapter), so we won't be digging into other point of views quite yet. Anyhow, I'm much more boring than the actual chapter, so continue on my lovelies!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!!!**

**HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 14: MIDNIGHT MURDERS**

_Bella POV, December 29, 2006_

I felt detached, parted from everything but the little girl in my arms that slept quietly, not stirring at all as harsh winds caressed the metal frame of our shelter like a serrated knife to skin. I hummed quietly and twirled a curl of her bronze hair around my finger, smiling at its softness.

My stomach was twisting uncomfortably and I had to breathe deeply to quell the sickness that threatened to overcome me. They'd practically been feeding us antibiotics for the past couple of days and though the other girls were used to it and claimed the nausea would end soon, I doubted the burning would go away. It was deeper for me, as if the antibiotics they gave me were killing more than just bacteria. I felt as if they were killing me too.

Aro had been discussing Katea's death while Caius forced me to be there to hear the verdict. I was lucky though, despite the circumstances that had brought them to their decision. I couldn't be touched at the present time, not when people were looking for me. Felix had picked up a paper and saw what just happened to be my missing person's advertisement. They were looking for me still, which meant that Edward and Emmett hadn't told anyone about me. That was a relief; I could only imagine the kind of trouble they would get into trying to break me out from this place. Still, there were thousands of people in Chicago and in every city that would follow. Someone was bound to recognize me or my description despite how vague it was. They knew that I could easily just let something slip….

Of course I would never do such a thing, but with the insistence of the others, particularly an angry Rosalie, the thought was very intriguing. Aro knew what the girls were saying, knew what they were encouraging me to do. Was it really betrayal if the betrayed were willing?

Internally scoffing, I shook my head. That was like asking whether or not statutory rape was rape. That was like saying that insanity was an excuse for rape. That was like saying James was innocent…

Ignoring the clench in my chest, the loss of what I had once owned so preciously without even realizing, I carefully tugged at the tangled tresses of hair that fell around Vanessa's face, admiring the faint glare of light against each strand. If she was given the chance at being a teen, I predicted she would be the girl all the boys were after, wishing desperately for a chance to hold her hand and just talk to her for a moment while inside their stomachs would be full of butterflies as they pined after her.

Yes, Vanessa would be a lovely girl. I tried to quell the fears I held shallowly within me, the ones that stirred right beneath the surface of my exhaustion. There was only so much I could do for her in this place. I was limited to walking around in my metal cage; fixing her bed; giving her a sponge bath if she needed assistance (which she did at the moment); and occasionally I was able to make her food with the rations they gave us, loafs of bread and salty cured meats being the largest portion of our diet. It was disgusting and left a horrid taste in the back of my mouth, but Vanessa was always ravenous when it came to food. I had had to make her drink water between bites so she wouldn't get sick. My imagination ran away with me when this happened, forcing my mind into a darker place where I knew Vanessa had been starved at some point.

"We cannot stand this any longer, Bella," Rosalie whispered to me, her eyes glowing with determination and fear.

"Neither can I," I replied. Her eyes widened. "My stomach is still killing me. When are they going to stop giving us the pills? I don't think I can take it much longer."

She growled, her red-toned lips quivering as she grimaced. "You know what I mean, Bella."

I sighed and looked back down at Vanessa's face, her cheeks pink as she dreamt.

"She'll die if I say anything," I said quietly, keeping my voice low and smooth for Vanessa's sake. I'd heard somewhere that voices could change the tone and mood of a dream. Or maybe I'd just experienced that myself. I couldn't remember.

"You can take her with you; demand that she be released as well. There is no time for questions and doubts, Isabella. If you wish to be free, you must take the opportunity as it comes. It's waiting for you." A thought came to mind.

"You don't want to live anymore, do you Rosalie?" I looked up from the curls and watched as Rosalie's clear blue eyes, burdened as they were, lowered to the rail of the bed, her fingertips caressing the rusted metal pipe. Her breath was shaky, as was her voice.

"There are few things I truly believe in, Bella. One of them is my religion. Suicide is not something I can be forgiven for…but, if given the opportunity to end this, all of my suffering, I would take it with the knowledge that this was the only way I would be free without having to repent for my one unforgivable sin." I pondered that for a moment, nodding when I decided that I understood fully.

"What of the others? Are they willing to die as well?"

Rosalie didn't speak. As she reached to pet Vanessa's head, her hand shook.

**--**

_December 30, 2006_

"Stop sneaking peaks at my shit, Edward."

I rolled my eyes and sat back down, tapping my foot to an erratic beat. Jasper had been hovering above his sketches for hours and still had yet to allow me to see them. I'd been patient at first, understanding how unnerving it could be to have someone look over your shoulder consistently, but now he was just being ridiculous.

"Look, I'm not allowed to do anything with the planning, so the least you could do is fill me in."

"I fill you in and then you'll start trying to tell me what to do. Nuh-uh, not happening."

I groaned and whined, "Oh come _on_, I'm not a fucking kid. I won't bother you any more than necessary!"

Jasper turned to me, eyebrow raised. "You're sounding like a kid to me." I growled in frustration.

"It's not my fucking fault you haven't learned to share!" He chuckled and turned back to his work.

I frowned at his back and angrily kicked at the couch opposite me, stupidly waking Emmett from his hibernation. He was one of those people who were easily woken by any movement but not from sound. The big bear of a man would blearily look up, growl at whoever was closest and, if worst came to worst, would attack with a swipe of his massive hand. Alice was clairvoyant enough to see when it was coming and I always knew when Emmett would snap. Jasper hadn't known that, though, the first time Alice had asked him to wake up Emmett. He'd been left with a massive bruise on his shoulder. Emmett always laughed whenever it was brought up.

"Whas goin' on?" Emmett perked unnaturally, his head shooting up and his curly hair flying and frizzing away. It kind of freaked me out, seeing him act differently. Emmett was a creature of habit and he rarely deviated.

"Just making a call Em," Jasper said as he snapped his phone open, slowly pushing each number with his forefinger—I silently laughed at his technological stump—and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Peter," instantaneously, Emmett's and my own attention were on Jasper and the unheard phone conversation.

"Yeah, I've got it, down to the last detail. Yes, it should be successful if all goes according to plan; if not, the back up plans should insure that we don't leave empty-handed. I…no, I don't think that would be a good idea but I have a feeling that they won't listen to me anyway," Jasper's eyes drifted to us, catching me for a moment.

"Yes, we'll meet you tomorrow morning, seven hundred hours, got it. Bye."

Emmett gave me a look and then turned back to Jasper with an eyebrow raised. It was of no consequence seeing as Jasper's eyes were shut tightly with restraint. It took me a moment to recognize it as anger, frustration that played back to after he had come back from Iraq. I hadn't known him immediately after that, but I did recall that Alice had been extremely calm throughout the duration of Jasper's healing. The restraint he had had during his military career had been driven away by the pain of a nearly fatal injury and in between his bouts of fury, Alice had managed to retain a strange sense of serenity so as to not fuel Jasper's agitation. He hadn't had any slips of composure since that time but from his expression, it looked like that record was nearly about to be broken.

Slowly, Jasper unclenched his fists and opened his eyes warily, as if expecting bombs to go off any second. Instead, he was met with silence. He cleared his throat.

"Guys, I –"

"It's no use Jazz, they won't buy it. Besides, I want to help, too!" How Alice managed to silently sneak through my apartment when the door was a mere fifteen feet away, I'd never know. Jasper sighed, a sigh of fearful yet fond exasperation. He'd gone through this before.

"Alice, this isn't one of those things you can help with. You know how dangerous this kind of thing can be; I know you do. It's too dangerous for all of you," Jasper turned to look at Emmett and I, the severity of what we were trying to do weighing his gaze with harshness and cold reality. However, Emmett and I had seen that sort of crude gaze before from someone who had not only experience the tortures of cruelty but lived that life daily. We were affected but we had felt a stronger, more concentrated dose of such a gaze. We stared back. He didn't turn back when he said, "I'm sorry Alice, but my answer is no."

Alice stared at him with a serious expression on her face before turning him around and pulling his face to nearly the same level as her. Somehow, Jasper had managed to remain standing even when Alice had pulled his face lower than her own. On his face was a frown and on Alice's was a half-baked smirk that totally contradicted the look in her eyes.

"Jasper, are you really going to order me?"

"I'm sorry, Alice."

Alice leaned her forehead against Jasper's.

"You know I wouldn't ask you for this just to see how far my power stretches, right? You know this is for a reason?"

"Yes, I've taken note that you are an opportunist." Alice laughed lightly, and I wished I could turn away. It was always strangely attention-drawing, the act of them conversing so intimately in such close proximity to others. You could practically see the auras and how they mixed together. It was brilliant.

"Bella's my friend…or, she will be. If this plan of yours works out like it did in my head, I'll be well on my way to having someone to talk clothes about, and maybe even a model for my designs!" Jasper laughed but it seemed half-hearted, like he was trying to hide away his own sorrow in Alice's excitement.

"Alice, there is always the possibility that this won't work out. What if you don't get Bella as a friend?" Jasper had lost friends before, but he'd never lost family. In his eyes, I could see the fear he held for us all, especially Alice. He'd been brought up in foster care, no true family to speak of. When he'd been thrust into our own strange family, he'd never known the difference between us and a normal, blood-related family. All he knew was that we were together and happier than any people he had seen prior. We provided a sort of security that was never brought by the military or foster care; we had love, as corny as it sounded. We were his to keep and be a part of for as long as he wanted. He would fight with all his strength to keep things that way, I knew.

"Jazz," Alice sighed. "She's going to be my maid of honor. I've already seen it, her dress, the way her hair will be, every single detail. I've never had this many visions before in such a short amount of time. It's for a reason. She has to be part of my future. I love her too much; she's my _best friend_." She's gotten him. Anything that Alice loved was going to be accepted by Jasper as long as it didn't directly affect her livelihood. She'd seen their wedding, for goodness sakes. This obviously meant she would live through the ordeal, and get a best friend to boot? Of course he'd let her…even if he would strongly suggest that she wear a bullet proof vest and tennis shoes the entire time. Jasper could only handle so much in any case.

"Not that you lovebirds are done with your _moment,_" Emmett gagged, "I think we ought to go over this plan before Jasper tries to convince us this isn't safe. I've been waiting for action since forever!" Jasper groaned. I almost smiled; there was only so much to be happy about. I could only hope that Isabella was still there, still holding her strength as she had silently vowed when she had left us.

_December 31, 2006 11:29 P.M or 2329 hours_

"Are you aware, Isabella, that there is a militia of men and women coming out today to infiltrate our base of commands in order to retrieve you?" I shakily shook my head. My cheek was sore and raw, my ribs aching with every breath. How was it possible to live through agony? It made me wonder if this was even worth it, but then I thought back to my little girl, innocent Vanessa, lying in a heap on the floor, unconscious from one hit. I had to be strong for her.

"Jane, you mustn't lose your temper, love. It is rather unladylike." Aro smiled, a fondly exasperated grin on his face. For whatever reason, this young girl of possibly seventeen or eighteen stood over me with a grimace on her face, as if her inability to glare me down until I was a puddle of sobbing weakness on the floor was of great insult to her. Her icy blue eyes never left me even as she spoke, her glare infinite.

"She doesn't even react, Aro. She doesn't even seem to feel it. Not one bit. How can she not..."

"Alas Jane, she confounds us all. As for her daughter, she is not as special, now, is she?" I nearly growled. They knew nothing, absolutely _nothing_, of Vanessa. She couldn't speak to me properly, mere mumbles and garble would spill from her lips every time she tried with the exception of one simple sentence: _I want Mommy_. But she drew pictures in the dirt, intricate little designs that made me think she wanted to tell me something but couldn't put it into words for some reason. It worried me but at the same time, it made me very proud. She wanted me to see what she was seeing and was doing everything she could to give me that privilege.

"It is of no consequence, dear. She will not be here to confound us for very much longer. James, step forward." I stiffened as I saw from my kneeled position on the concrete _his_ jean-clad legs step forward. The fear was there but now I could only focus it on a select few people. The girl on the floor was my priority at the moment. She had to be safe from these men and women. She was only safe when she was with me, protected from everything and everyone. I cared for no one more than I cared for her.

However, my heart was stretching itself towards others that I wasn't aware it could possibly stretch to. The men who had so graciously and stupidly offered to rescue me from my prison were on my mind, their kind faces and warm gestures to comfort me a significant reminder that they were to blame for my most recent beating. It didn't matter that I was beaten, it was bound to happen eventually anyway, but this meant that they were in danger. Someone would figure it out. They'd leave one track uncovered for someone capable of tracking something like this down and they'd be caught and done away with. Aro was too powerful to let his sovereignty fall.

"You are particularly lucky, Isabella, to have someone like James who is so fond of you. You would be on the warm end of a gun if it weren't for that fact. James, you are free to keep Isabella; from now on, she is your responsibility. She is no longer of any use to us. Do away with her as you please." I didn't search for the leer that was most definitely on James' face. Instead, I focused on Vanessa.

"I won't leave without Vanessa. She's mine; you can't take her away from me!"

"Silence, you insolent girl! You will not speak to Master that way!" Jane's hand made to slash at my cheek and I flinched back only to find that her slap had not made purchase against my face. My eyes warily opened to see James holding her hand by her wrist.

"Don't harm my merchandise, Jane. I like to do that myself." Even through James playful words, I saw the harshness in his eyes, the warning aimed at the girl with the outstretched arm. He didn't want me to be harmed by Jane. He wouldn't allow her to.

Jane glared back at him but not in the same way she had me. When she glared at me, I was nothing but a speck of insignificant dirt on her shoe that needed to be swiped away so she wouldn't have to stare at it any longer. With James, he was an equal, someone who worked with her, not equal enough to be a friend but enough to be someone to look to for assistance. It reminded me that I was merchandise and not a person. It made me remember that James was my owner, not my protector. That spot didn't need to be filled. I was a protector for Vanessa. Protectors didn't need to be protected.

"I believe this girl is perfect for our plans, isn't she Jane? Young, innocent, beautiful; yes, men will love her. And bless her heart, she doesn't even speak or complain or cry! My, my, we have quite the little angel on our hands, don't we Isabella? However, even you were that way once, if I remember correctly. As you can probably relate, you know how easily an angel's wings can be sullied, don't you Isabella?" I stared in horror as he lifted Vanessa from her spot on the floor. His lips ghosted over her neck as he delicately took in a deep breath through his nose, smelling her scent. No, he couldn't, he _wouldn't _do something so disgusting, so heinous…no, he couldn't….

I was pulled away, screaming and practically retching as Aro's hand caressed her cheek gently, a smile on ghosting over his face as he did it. Just as his hand reached down to her shirt, just when I was ready to bite off James' hand to relinquish his grip on my arm, Aro's head shot up. There was the sound of rustling, the sound of shrill shrieks and angry hisses and whispers from outside the door that enclosed us. That had to be the girls; the monitors were in the room that Aro had called me in to, the only room with an accessible exit to the surreal world outside the metal cage. Felix quickly went to the door and stepped out to see what the cause of the ruckus was.

_December 31, 2006, __**11:25 P.M or 2325 hours**_

"If there is anyone that will knowingly screw up in the next few minutes, may you pray that I don't find out about it otherwise prepare to be shot in the leg now." I ignored the fact that Peter was staring at me as if I was the only one he was talking to. Unfortunately for Peter, I was prepared to stand back with Alice and Emmett, just to insure that no one he truly cared for was hurt. Besides, Emmett and I were the best at handling Alice when she was having one of her visions and at the moment, she was chockfull of them. She had been burdened with headaches for the entirety of the afternoon, her mind littered with pictures and blurring people coming in and out of the future. If people didn't make up their minds about actions they would take, things would change and her visions would never stop. She'd never had so many at one time, anyhow, and was unused to being bombarded so frequently. I didn't envy her ability at the moment.

The militia group was probably filled with some of the most skilled people I had ever met. There were two translators who knew various languages combined, two medics, Jasper (the team strategist), Peter (the commander of this mission), and six other men who were the powerhouse of the group. It was relatively small but all were armed and well equipped to enter the building.

The members of the group had their heads bowed, the only woman in the group holding a rosary tightly in her hand as she mumbled so quietly that only that tightly knit circle could hear. There was a collective "amen" and they stood up straight, removing the guns from their belts. Jasper, the only one who didn't pull out his gun, carried a rectangular box of aluminum, his military issue radio. Every one of them had a radio attached to their vests.

"I'll be staying outside the building with Zafrina," he said quietly as he placed the box on the hood of his truck. "She'll be needed outside; there's no point in having her run around in there, it'll just cause more of a stir." I could tell it really bothered him to not be able to help out, but his arm was at a major risk. If there was a tear or if he put strain on it, there would be lasting pain and possibly even nerve damage. He couldn't risk it.

Zafrina, a tall woman with deep-toned skin with a rich accent, knelt next to Alice's slightly hunched figure. With her head pressed against Jasper's car, she was mumbling to herself, her eyes shut tightly.

"How are you, dear?" Zafrina asked worriedly, patting Alice's shoulder with a large hand.

"About as good as I can be, considering my mind is being torn apart," Alice hissed in pain. Jasper shifted but didn't say a thing.

"Maybe I can help," Zafrina said kindly.

"Zafrina…," Jasper growled. "Not now. She won't be used to it. It would only frighten her."

"I was only trying to help alleviate the stress," she replied.

"I know, Zafrina, but save it for the girls. They'll need it more. We don't have time, anyhow."

"Why not?"

"It's started."

_December 31, 2006, 11:30 P.M or 2330 hours_

James was running too fast for me to catch up but somehow, I managed to stumble along so quickly that my feet were bleeding from the scrapes of cement, Vanessa's body in my arms. Adrenaline pushed me to the room that James normally took me in, one that Vanessa had never been in. I had never thought that I would ever follow James for a second, but this was an exception. There were bad things happening, I could tell. If anyone was hurt, any of the girls or Vanessa or the people breaking into the warehouse, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I should never have spoken to Edward and Emmett. I should have done as I was told and kept my mouth shut.

"Isabella, get over here." I hesitated but placed Vanessa down along the wall, far away from the bed, and walked over to James. Even breathing deeply as he was, he looked intimidating, like he would strike me at any moment. His menacing grimace worried me.

When I reached him, his hand shot out and grasped the hair at the base of my neck and pulled. I cried out as I fell down to the floor, wincing as he tightened his grasp.

"Isabella, what have I told you every time we are in this room?" When I didn't answer, he pulled my head back until my neck was bare for him to see. "Answer me."

"I'm yours," I gasped. My scalp felt like it was bleeding.

"Exactly. And when I say jump, what do you ask?" I didn't answer again, this time setting my jaw tightly. I wasn't his slave; no matter how much he tried to make me his, I refused to not fight back.

He growled. "If you don't cooperate, you and the girl will die, Isabella. Your lives are in my hands as of now. Now when I say run, what do you ask?" I stared in astonishment. He pulled my hair again and I replied quickly.

"How far?" He nodded.

"You will obey my every order, Isabella, do you understand? Of course you do. Now, sit on the bed. I've got some business to take care of." He stood, his palm brushing against the skin of my neck as he passed behind me. He didn't turn back to look at me as he left.

_December 31, 2006, 11:45 P.M or 2345 hours_

"Shit!"

There was an explosion, fire and smoke coming from the metal building. The screams were loud and high, only muffled by the cage and dense clouds of dust and smoke. Jasper was shouting commands to staying along the walls while Zafrina geared up in a heat-resistant suit and a couple of fire extinguishers. Jasper looked to us a couple of times before shouting out, "Emmett, Edward, put on a suit. You're helping Zafrina!"

Quickly, we grabbed suits and pulled them over ourselves. Emmett grinned wryly at me, "Finally, we get some action." I smiled back tightly, my heart racing in my chest. In moments, we were following Zafrina into the flames.

_December 31, 2006, 11:48 P.M. or 2348 hours_

I heard a high-pitched scream and knew that one of my girls was dying, painfully. Smoke was entering through the space beneath the door and I carried Vanessa to the bed, pulling the covers over her face so try and keep it from entering her lungs. James always had gallons of water here but the times that he grew thirsty during his time with me. He often didn't release me from the room until a day or more after I first entered. Unfortunately, his normally large supply had been depleted to only about a half gallon, hardly enough to douse both Vanessa and myself. Instead of doing as I had planned, I sprinkled water over the sheet covering Vanessa.

I coughed roughly, my eyes stinging. Gripping the pillow case off the bed, I poured the water over it and placed it over my nose, effectively protecting my mouth. There was shouting, so many male voices that I wasn't sure if it was all just one person or many.

With one hand holding the cloth to my mouth, I managed to move Vanessa to the farthest corner of the bed, far away from the door. I curled myself around her as best I could.

This wasn't what I had wanted, never in a million years. How could I have been so stupid? How had this even happened, this entire mess? I'd left my apartment, tripped over a cat, bought coffee, went to work, and then headed home. I was supposed to have continued that cycle for months, maybe even a year or two, before actually going on to being something successful, maybe even happy and content. How did it all lead to this?

The door slammed open, revealing Caius' murderous glare. He lifted his hand and his sterling revolver. It seemed strange that now, as the gun was pointed at me, that I could see the intricate designs that had been etched into the butt of the gun, the beautiful vine-like spikes and the strange words that were Italian, I was sure. Before Katea's inevitable demise, everything seemed too sharp for human eyes, an ephemeral moment it had been. Now, everything was moving at a snail's pace, time sluggishly crawling to the point of my death. Would my lackluster life flash before my eyes now?

"This is all your fault, you wench!" The gun clicked loudly despite the screams and the sounds of flames being fanned. He offered no further explanation for the crazed look in his normally sharp eyes. Instead, he stepped forward only to be pushed to the ground, head cracking against the concrete block of flooring, his gun bouncing heavily off the floor and closer to me. James panted, his face bloodied and hands looking blistered. Still, he smirked at Caius' body as he stepped over it, mumbling, "Always hated that guy."

"Get up," he growled angrily, "we're leaving. If the girl slows you down, I'll kill her myself." James ran to his special corner of the room, the one where he held his duffle bag full of things that I didn't care to remember the names of.

"Fuck," he cursed, "give me the girl. I'll drop her outside while you get the stuff. Don't you dare leave this room, you hear me?" I nodded, eagerly taking in Vanessa's face as James uncovered her body and threw her over his shoulder hastily. Inside, I was cringing at his crude handling but knew that a bruise or two was better than seeing my girl die. Quickly, I bagged the items James had as he ran back out to the main room with Vanessa in his arms.

It felt like betrayal, like I was leaving the people who had readily accepted into their inner sanctum just for my own selfish reasons. I didn't dare look out the open doorway to see what was happening. People were still screaming.

"Bella!" I turned to see someone who I'd never thought I'd see again.

_December 31, 2007, 11:54 P.M. or 2354 hours_

Never in my life had I ever imagined so much destruction and flesh splattered across one room. Metal barracks were being burned rapidly, women and children scrambling to escape the heat but some unable. One girl was brave—or stupid, depending on your point of view. She'd protected the children—as soon as I'd seen them, I had nearly vomited at the realization of what had become of their innocence—from the fire but had left her scantily clad body too close to the flames. She was alive, but only barely and was with the medics at the moment. Her blonde hair was charred at the edges and her skin had suffered burns so bad that the skin was peeling back, black as fresh ash. Her unconscious state was the only thing keeping her from continuing her previous screaming.

The fire had been extinguished but Zafrina had to calm down the girls, an impossible task because of the shooting that was taking place in one corner of the room. The smoke had given the enemies the advantage because they knew their environment better, but we had better men. We walked around with gas masks on our face, staying close to the walls while the others took to the center of the warehouse. We were lucky; the room was large enough to maneuver ourselves without running into the enemy. Emmett and I had shed our suits and opted for helping push the women and children outside the danger zone. We couldn't risk having them get shot. That had been the purpose of the fire: to eliminate the evidence of trafficking, the merchandise.

"Hey," called one of the group, Garrett I think his name was, "can you check in that other room? We've got it handled out here. I don't think there's much over there, anyway. Jasper's gonna kill me for not sending you back outside right away but he'll have to deal with it." I nodded and headed back, removing the thick leather gloves from my hands. They'd been guaranteed to keep my skin from burning off but they were swelteringly hot themselves.

Looking into the room, I peaked in, hoping not to see something that would give Peter a reason to shoot me in the leg. However, the only one I saw was another girl dressed in the same clothes as the other girls, hardly anything. Thinking I could sneak forward rather than calling out to her (most of the girls hadn't spoken English, anyhow, and were very hesitant to even come in my direction), I thought maybe I'd sneak up on her. That is, until I saw something familiar as my uncontrollable gaze traveled across her body. She had bruises, many of them, across her shoulders and backside, but the ones that were the most reminiscent were the thick, healing bands around her ankles. They looked pink, like they were just healing from an Indian burn…

"Bella!"

She turned around, eyes wide as she stared at my face. Her face hadn't been that badly bruised and scraped when I'd last seen her and I cursed myself for taking so long to get to her. But that was the least of the issues. I was just so happy that she was _alive._

"Bella, we've got to get out of here. The others are already getting out safe and sound. Come on, let's go!" I walked over to her and grabbed her wrist, intent on dragging her still body out the door with force if necessary. It took her a moment to react, and even then it didn't seem right.

"No, I can't go with you! Let me go!" She struggled and fought but I didn't let go even as I stopped trying to drag her along.

"What are you talking about? We need to leave, _now._" She shook her head frantically, trying desperately to shake off my hand from her wrist. "I'm sorry, I can't go with you. Please let go."

"Bella, you're safe now." Why didn't she understand? The others were safe. What else was there left for her here? Surely nothing material could be worth death?

"Vanessa isn't! I have to get her back!"

"Bella, she's probably already—"

"No! I'm not—"

She didn't get to finish and I didn't get to hear. Before I knew what was happening, I was flying forward toward the wall that Bella had been standing next to, my cheek pressed tightly against the metal wall. I couldn't move my face as it was being crushed. There were no words as I used all my strength to push myself around until I was facing the one who had attacked me. Immediately I recognized him as someone dangerous, someone who had no sense. His eyes were dark and any remnants of sanity had long since disappeared.

"She's mine. You can't have her," he growled.

It became an intense fight, fists punching into one another and feet kicking shins. We were equally matched but he was loose, wildly swinging at me with such vigor that I was worried I'd end up being hit even if he didn't intentionally hit me. However, as I ducked from his hits, he finally took the final blow and tackled me against the wall, knocking the air out of my chest. I struggled to breath and he made it even harder by pressing his palm against my throat, pushing tightly as I gasped.

His eyes were wild as he smirked at me. "Isabella didn't tell you, did she? Oh, she's such an obedient, shy girl…Did she tell you that she's mine? Oh yes, she's become mine now, owned by me, ruled by me; I am her master. She wouldn't leave with you because I told her not to leave the room. Yes, such a good girl. And how wonderful it was to taint her, to own her as I have. You can never have her. Tell him, Isabella. Tell him who owns y—" James maniacal grin was planted on his face even as his eyes widened in shock. Warm liquid had sprayed across my face and I gasped as his hand fell from my throat. A loud crack echoed through the room, the walls vibrating against my back. James fell to the ground, revealing quite a sight.

Bella sat on the floor, eyes wide open in shock, hands clasped tightly around a silver revolver.

The alarm on my watch went off. It was midnight.

**A/N: **I swear, that isn't a cliff hanger at all.

To be totally honest, this was one of the first scenes I ever came up with for this story…actually, it came up after rape scene. I thought, "Wow, that chapter will be epic"…and it kind of was. I liked it. Again, I apologize for such a long wait and I wish I could make it up to you all but I can't…until I update again, that is.

**Now, who would like to get a fan fiction written for them, and only for them? I'll write any kind of Twilight fan fiction for one of the reviewers. Your review will be randomly selected from the bunch and I'll contact you immediately to get the information I need (i.e the who, what, when, where, why, and how). Everyone can participate but only one can win! Oh, and anonymous reviewers must leave an email address otherwise I cannot contact you and you cannot receive your fiction. Sorry, those are the rules. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! PLEASE DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.**


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